THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


STRATFORD  k  13 


J^^U  OO.  WA\\\  "    1-U5  nils. 


(J 


THE 


TRAGEDY    OF    IDA    NOBLE 


A    NOVEL 


BY 


W.    CLARK   RUSSELL 


NEW     YORK 
D.     APPLETON     AND     COMPANY 

1892 


Copyright,  1891, 
Bv   D.   APPLETON   AND   COMPANY. 


All  rights  reserved. 


3 

Co 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAOB 

I.  A  Yankee  ruse 5 

II.  The  people  of  La  Casandra 33 

III.  Don  Christoval's  story 59 

IV.  A   MIDNIGHT   THEFT 90 

V.  Madame 123 

VI.   A  TRAGEDY 154 

VII.  Don  Lazarillo  leaves  us 185 

VIII.  Ida  Noble 219 

IX.  Captain  Noble 249 


1 


JL.O   i 


THE  TEAGEDY  OE  IDA  KOBLE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A    YANKEE    RUSE. 

On  Monday,  August  8tli,  1838,  the  large  bark 
Ocean  Ranger,  of  which  I  was  second  mate,  was 
in  latitude  38°  40'  N.,  and  longitude  11°  W.  The 
hour  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  I  had  come 
on  deck  to  relieve  the  chief  officer,  who  had  had 
charge  of  the  ship  since  twelv^e.  It  was  a  very 
heavy  day — a  sullen  sky  of  gray  va}3or  seeming 
to  overhang  our  mastheads  within  pistol-shot  of  the 
trucks.  From  time  to  time  there  had  stolen  from 
the  far  reaches  of  the  ocean  a  note  as  of  the  groan- 
ing of  a  tempest,  but  there  had  been  no  lightning ; 
the  wind  hung  a  steady  breeze  out  of  the  east,  and 
the  ship,  with  slanting  masts  and  rounded  breasts 
of  canvas,  showing  with  a  glare  of  snow  against 
the  dark  ground  of  the  sky,  pushed  quietly  through 


6       THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

the  water  that  floated  in  a  light  swell  to  the  yellow 
line  of  her  sheathing. 

Some  time  before  I  arrived  on  deck  a  vessel  had 
been  descried  on  the  port  bow,  and  now  at  this  hour 
of  four  she  had  risen  to  the  tacks  of  her  courses, 
and  her  sails  shone  so  radiantly  in  the  dusky  distance 
that  at  the  first  glance  I  knew  her  to  be  an  Amer- 
ican. The  captain  of  my  ship,  a  man  named  Hoste, 
was  pacing  the  deck  near  the  wheel ;  I  trudged  the 
planks  a  little  way  forward  of  him,  stepping  atli wart- 
ships,  or  from  side  to  side.  The  men,  who  were 
getting  their  supper,  passed  in  and  out  of  the  gal- 
ley, carrying  hook-pots  of  steaming  tea.  It  was  an 
hour  of  liberty  with  tliem,  the  first  of  what  is 
called  the  "  dog  watches."  The  gloom  of  the  sky 
seemed  to  heighten  the  quietude  that  was  upon  the 
ship.  The  sailors  talked  low,  and  their  laughter 
was  sudden  and  short.  All  was  silent  aloft,  the 
sails  stirless  to  the  gushing  of  the  long  salt  breath 
of  the  east  wind  into  the  wide  spaces  of  cloths,  and 
nothing  sounded  over  the  side  save  the  dim  crack- 
ling and  soft  seething  noises  of  waters  broken  under 
the  bow,  and  sobbing  and  simmering  past,  with 
now  and  again  a  glad  note  like  the  fall  of  a  fount- 
ain. 

The  captain  picked  up  a  telescope  that  lay  upon 


A  YANKEE  RUSE.  7 

the  skylight,  and  crossing  the  deck  took  a  view  of 
the  approaching  ship  ;  then  approached  me. 

"  She  is  an  American,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  How  do  you  know  she  is  an  American  ? " 

"  By  the  light  of  the  cotton  in  her  canvas." 

"  Ay,  and  there  are  more  signs  than  that.  She 
has  pnt  her  helm  over  as  though  she  would  speak 
us." 

By  five  o'clock  she  was  about  a  mile  to  a  mile 
and  a  quarter  distant  on  our  weather  bow,  at  which 
hour  she  had  backed  her  maintop-sail  and  lay  sta- 
tionary upon  the  sea,  rolling  lightly  and  very  state- 
ly on  the  swell,  the  beautiful  flag  of  her  nation — 
the  stars  and  stripes — floating  inverted  from  her 
peak  as  a  signal  of  distress.  Both  Captain  Hoste 
and  I  had  searched  her  with  a  telescope,  but  we 
could  see  no  other  signs  of  hfe  aboard  her  than  three 
figures — one  of  which  stood  at  the  wheel — on  her 
short  length  of  poop,  and  a  single  head  as  of  a 
sailor  -vnievdng  us  over  the  bulwark-rail  forward. 

"We  shortened  sail  as  we  slowly  drew  down,  and 
when  within  speaking  distance  Captain  Hoste 
hailed  her. 

The  answer  was — "For  God's  sake  send  a 
boat! "     Yet  she  had  good  boats  of  her  own,  and  it 


8       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

puzzled  me,  then,  that  she  should  request  us  to  send, 
seeing  that  there  mvist  be  hands  enough  to  enable 
her  to  back  the  yards  on  the  main. 

Captain  Hoste  cried  out,  "  But  what  is  wrong 
with  you  ? " 

One  of  the  figures  on  the  poop  or  raised  deck 
tossed  his  hands  in  a  gesture  of  agitation  and  dis- 
tress, and  in  piteous,  nasal  Yankee  accents  re- 
peated, "  For  God's  sake  send  a  boat ! '' 

Captain  Hoste  gazed  for  a  while,  as  though  hesi- 
tating. He  then  said  to  me,  "  Mr.  Portlack,  there 
may  be  trouble  aboard  that  ship,  not  to  be  guessed 
at  by  merely  looking  at  her  and  singing  out.  Take 
a  couple  of  hands  in  the  jolly  boat  and  ascertain 
what  is  wanted,"  and  so  saying  he  bawled  a  com- 
mand to  the  sailors  forward  to  lay  the  maintop-sail 
of  the  Ocean  Ranger  to  the  mast,  while  I  called  to 
others  to  lay  aft  and  lower  away  the  jolly  boat 
that  was  suspended  at  irons  called  davits,  a  little 
distance  past  the  mizzen-rigging. 

By  this  time  a  darker  sliade  had  entered  the 
gloom  of  the  sky,  due  partly  to  the  sinking  of 'the 
hidden  sun,  and  partly  to  the  thickening  of  the 
atmosphere  as  for  rain.  The  sea,  that  ran  in  folds 
of  leaden  hue,  was  merely  wrinkled  and  crisped  by 
the  wind,  and  I  had  no  difficulty  in  making  head 


A   YANKEE  RUSE.  9 

against  the  streaming  foam-lined  ripples  and  in  lay- 
ing the  little  boat  alongside  the  American, 

She  was  a  tall,  black  ship  with  an  almost  straight 
stem  and  of  a  clipper  keenness  of  bow.  Her  stem- 
head  and  quarters  were  rich  with  gilt  devices ;  her 
towering  skysail  poles,  the  white  trucks  of  which 
gleamed  like  silver,  seemed  to  pierce  the  dusky 
surface  of  vapor  above  them.  I  sprang  into  the 
mizzen  channel  and  stepped  from  the  rail  on  to  the 
poop. 

Saving  the  man  at  the  wheel  there  was  but  one 
person  on  deck  ;  I  sent  a  look  forward  but  the  ship 
was  deserted.  This,  I  instantly  thought  to  myself, 
will  be  a  case  of  mutiny.  There  has  been  brutality, 
or,  which  is  nearly  as  bad  as  brutality,  bad  food, 
and  the  men  have  refused  duty  and  gone  below. 

The  person  who  received  me  was  an  American 
skipper  of  a  type  that  travel  had  rendered  familiar. 
His  dress  was  remarkable  for  nothing  but  an  im- 
mense felt,  sugar-loaf-shaped  hat — a  Fifth  of  No- 
vember hat.  He  had  a  hard,  yellow  face  with  a 
slight  cast  in  one  eye,  and  his  long  beard  was 
trimmed  to  the  aspect  of  a  goat's.  I  did  not  ob- 
serve in  him  any  marks  of  the  agitation  and  dis- 
tress which  had  echoed  in  his  melancholy  return 
yell  to  us  of  "  For  God's  sake  send  a  boat ! "     He 


/ 

10       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

eyed  me  coolly  and  critically,  running  his  eyes  over 
me  from  top  to  toe  as  though  I  were  a  man  solicit- 
ing work,  and  as  thougli  he  were  considering 
whether  to  engage  me  or  not.  He  then  said, 
"  Good  afternoon  !  " 

"  Pray,"  said  I,  "  what  is  wrong  with  you  that 
you  asked  us  to  send  a  boat  ? " 

"  Step  below,"  said  he,  moving  to  the  little  com- 
panion hatch  that  conducted  to  the  cabin. 

"  I  am  in  a  hurry,"  said  I,  with  a  glance  round 
the  sea ;  "  it  darkens  quickly  and  I  wish  to  return 
to  my  ship.     Pray  let  me  hear  your  wants." 

"  This  way,  if  you  please,"  he  answered,  putting 
his  foot  upon  the  ladder. 

There  was  no  help  for  it :  I  must  follow  him  or 
return  to  my  ship  without  being  able  to  satisfy  the 
questions  which  Captain  Hoste  would  put  to  me. 
As  I  stepped  to  the  hatch  it  began  to  rain,  but 
without  increase  of  wind;  away  to  windward  in 
the  east  the  sea  was  already  shrouded  with  drizzle, 
and  already  to  leeward  the  Ocean  Ranger  loomed 
with  something  of  indistinctness  in  the  thickening 
atmosphere,  her  white  sails  showing  in  the  gather- 
ing dusk  as  she  rolled  like  spaces  of  pale  light  flung 
and  eclipsed,  flung  and  eclipsed  again.  The  helms- 
man at  the  wheel  of  the  Yankee  stared  hard  at  me 


A  YANKEE  RUSE.  H 

as  I  approached  the  hatch.  On  entering  the  cabin, 
I  found  the  captain  witli  an  air  of  bustle  in  the  act 
of  placing  a  bottle  and  glasses  upon  the  table. 

"  Sit  you  down,  sit  you  down,"  he  called  to  me. 
"  Here  is  such  a  drop  of  rum  as  I  know  some  folks 
in  your  country  would  think  cheap  at  a  dollar  a 
glass." 

"  This  is  no  time  to  drink,"  said  I,  "  thanking 
you  all  the  same,  nor  is  rum  a  liquor  I  am  accus- 
tomed to  swallow  at  this  hour.  Pray  tell  me  what 
is  wrong  with  you." 

"  Wal,"  said  he,  "  if  you  won't  drink  my  health, 
then  I  just  reckon  there's  nothen  for  me  to  do  but 
to  drink  yourn." 

He  poured  out  about  a  gill  of  neat  rum  which, 
first  smelling  it,  with  a  noisy  smack  of  his  lips  he 
tossed  down.  I  looked  at  my  watch,  meaning  to 
give  him  three  minutes  and  then  be  off,  let  his  dis- 
tress be  what  it  might.  The  cabin  was  so  gloomy 
that  our  faces  to  each  other  could  scarcely  be  more 
than  a  glimmer.  The  evening  shadow,  darker  yet 
with  rain  and  with  the  wet  of  the  rain  upon  the 
glass,  lay  upon  the  little  skylight  over  the  table ; 
the  windows  overlooking  the  main  deck  were  nar- 
row apertures,  and  there  was  nothing  of  the  ship  to 
be  seen  through  them ;  yet,  even  as  the  Yankee  put 


12      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

down  liis  glass,  fetching  a  deep  breath  as  he  did  so, 
I  seemed  to  hear  a  sound  as  of  men  softly  treading, 
accompanied  by  a  voice  apparently  giving  orders 
in  subdued  tones,  and  by  the  noise  of  rigging  care- 
lessly dropped  or  hastily  flung  down. 

"  What  ship  is  yourn  ? "  said  the  captain. 

"  The  Ocean  Eanger,"  I  replied.  "  But  you 
are  trifling  with  me,  I  think.  I  am  not  here  to  an- 
swer that  sort  of  questions.     What  do  you  want? " 

"  Wal,"  he  answered,  "  I'll  tell  you  what  I  want, 
mister.  I'm  short  of  men,  and  men,"  he  added, 
with  a  touch  of  brutal  energy  in  his  tone,  "  I  must 
have,  or,  durn  me,  if  the  Ephriam  Z.  Jackson  is 
going  to  fetch  ISTew  York  this  side  of  Christmas 
Day.  I  reckon,"  he  continued,  with  an  indiscrib- 
able  nasal  drawl,  "  that  your  captain  will  be  willing 
to  loan  me  two  or  three  smart  hands." 

"I  reckon,"  I  replied,  with  some  heat,  "that  he 
will  be  willing  to  do  nothing  of  the  sort,  if  for  no 
other  reason  than  because  it's  already  a  tight  fit 
with  us  in  the  matter  of  labor.  If  that  is  your 
want — very  sorry,  I'm  sure,  that  we  should  be  un- 
able to  serve  you,"  and  I  made  a  step  toward  the 
companion  ladder. 

"  Stop,  mister,"  he  cried,  "  how  might  you  be 
rated  aboard  your  ship  1 " 


A  YANKEE   RUSE.  13 

"  Second  mate,"  I  replied,  pausing  and  looking 
round  at  the  man. 

"  Wal,"  said  lie,  coolly,  "  1  don't  mind  telling 
jou  that  my  second  mate's  little  better  than  a 
sojer  " — by  which  he  meant  "  soldier  " — "  and  if  so 
be  as  you  are  willing  to  stop  just  here,  I'll  break 
him  and  send  him  forrards,  where  he'll  be  of  some 
use,  and  you  shall  take  his  place." 

My  astonishment  held  me  silent  for  some  mo- 
ments. "Thank  you,"  said  I,  "my  captain  is  wait- 
ing for  me  to  return,"  and  ^vith  a  stride  I  gained 
the  companion  steps. 

"  Stop,  mister ! "  he  shouted.  "  Men  I  must  have, 
and  at  sea  when  the  pi-rate  necessity  boards  a  craft 
po-liteness  has  to  skip.  You  can  stop  if  you  like ; 
but  if  you  go  you  goes  alone.  I  tell  you  I  inust 
have  men.  Two  men  ye've  brought,  and  they're 
going  to  stop,  I  calculate.  In  fact,  we've  filled  on 
the  Ephriam  Z.  Jackson,  and  she's  ong  rout  again, 
mister.     If  you  go — " 

I  stayed  to  hear  no  more,  and  in  a  bound  gained 
the  deck.  Sure  enough  they  had  swung  the  topsail 
yard,  and  the  ship,  slowly  gathering  way,  was  break- 
inor  the  wrinkles  of  the  sea  which  underran  her  into 
a  little  froth  under  her  bows !  Five  or  six  sailors 
were  moving  about  the  decks.     I  rushed  to  the  side 


14      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

to  look  for  my  boat ;  slie  lay  where  I  had  left  lier, 
straining  at  the  line,  and  wobbling  and  splashing 
angrily  as  she  was  towed ;  but  there  was  nobody  in 
her.  My  two  men  were  not  to  be  seen.  I  shouted 
their  names,  my  heart  beating  with  alarm  and  tem- 
per, but  either  they  were  detained  by  force  below, 
or,  influenced  by  the  seaman's  proverbial  reckless 
love  of  change,  they  had  been  swiftly  and  easily 
coaxed  by  a  handsome  offer  of  dollars  and  of  rum 
into  skulking  out  of  sight  until  I  should  have  left 
the  ship.  My  own  vessel  lay  a  mere  smudge  in  the 
rain  away  down  upon  the  lee  quarter,  yet  she  was 
not  so  indistinct  but  that  I  was  able  to  make  out 
she  had  not  yet  filled  on  her  topsail.  I  could 
imagine  Captain  Hoste  bewildered  by  the  action  of 
the  Yankee,  not  yet  visited  by  a  suspicion  of  the 
fellow's  atrocious  duplicity,  and  waiting  a  while  to 
see  what  he  intended  to  do. 

I  had  followed  the  sea  for  many  years,  and 
my  profession  had  taught  me  speed  in  forming 
resolutions.  Had  the  weather  been  clear,  even 
though  the  time  were  an  hour  or  tM'o  later  than  it 
was,  I  should  have  continued  to  demand  my  men 
from  this  perfidious  Yankee.  I  should  have  tried 
him  w^ith  threats— have  made  some  sort  of  a  stand, 
at  all  events,  and  taken  my  chance  of   what   was 


A   YANKEE   RUSE.  •  15 

to  follow.  But  if  I  was  to  regain  my  sliip  every 
instant  was  precious.  It  was  darkening  into  night 
even  as  I  paused  for  a  few  moments,  half  wild  with 
anger  and  the  hurry  of  my  thoughts.  My  men 
were  hidden ;  and  my  suspicions,  indeed  my  convic- 
tion, assured  me  that  I  might  shout  for  them  till  I 
was  hoarse  to  no  purpose.  Then,  again,  the  Ameri- 
can vessel  was  now  at  every  beat  of  the  pulse 
widening  the  distance  between  her  and  the  Ocean 
Ranger.  It  was  certain  that  my  first  business  must 
be  to  regain  my  own  vessel  wliile  yet  a  httle  day- 
light lived,  and  leave  the  rest  to  Captain  Hoste ;  and 
without  further  reflection,  and  without  pausing  to 
look  if  the  American  captain  had  followed  me  out 
of  the  cabin,  I  dropped  into  the  mizzen  channels  and 
thence  into  the  jolly-boat  that  was  towing  close 
under,  and  cast  adrift  the  line  that  held  the  boat  to 
the  ship's  side.  The  little  fabric  dropped  astern 
tumbling  and  sputtering  into  the  wide  race  of  wake 
of  the  ship  that  drove  away  from  me  into  the  dim- 
ness of  the  rain-laden  atmosphere  in  a  large  pale 
cloud,  which  darkened  on  a  sudden  in  a  heavier  fall 
of  wet  that  in  a  minute  or  two  was  hissing  all  about 
me. 

I  threw  an  oar  over  the  boat's  stern,  and,  getting 
her  head  round    for  my  ship,  fell  to  sculling  her 


16       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

with  miglit  and  main.  There  was  now  a  Httle 
more  wind,  and  the  rain  drove  with  a  sharper 
slant,  but  the  small  ridges  of  the  sea  ran  softly 
with  the  boat,  melting  with  scarce  more  than  a  light 
summer  plaj  of  froth  on  either  hand  of  me,  as  I 
stood  erect  sculling  at  my  hardest.  The  heavier 
rush  of  rain  had,  however,  by  this  time  touched  the 
Ocean  Hanger,  and  she  now  showed  as  vaguely 
as  a  phantom  down  in  the  wet  dusk.  I  could 
barely  discern  the  dim  spaces  of  her  canvas,  mere 
dashes  of  faint  pallor  upon  the  gloom,  with  the 
black  streak  of  her  hull  coming  and  going  as  my 
boat  rose  and  sank  upon  the  swell. 

I  had  not  been  sculling  more  than  three  or  four 
minutes  when  I  perceived  that  Captain  Hoste  had 
gathered  way  upon  his  ship.  She  was,  in  fact, 
forging  ahead  fast  and  rounding  away  into  the  west 
in  pursuit  of  the  American,  leaving  my  boat  in  con- 
sequence astern  of  her  out  upon  her  starboard  quar- 
ter. It  was  very  evident  that  the  boat  was  not  to 
be  seen  from  the  Ocean  Ranger — that  Captain 
Hoste  imagined  me  still  on  board  the  American,  and 
that,  observing  the  Yankee  to  be  sailing  away,  he 
concluded  it  was  about  time  to  follow  him — though 
this  was  a  pursuit  I  had  little  doubt  Iloste  would 
speedily  abandon,  for  it  was  not  hard  to  guess  that 


A  YANKEE  RUSE.  17 

the  Ephraini  Z.  Jackson  would  outsail  the  Ocean 
Ranger  by  two  feet  to  one. 

The  consternation  that  seized  me  was  so  excess- 
ive that  my  hands  grasped  the  oar  motionlessly,  as 
though  my  arms  had  been  withered.  I  could  do 
no  more  than  stand  gajiing  over  my  shoulder  at  the 
receding  ships.  As  to  shouting — why,  already  my 
vessel  had  put  a  long  mile  and  a  half  between  her 
and  my  boat ;  and  though  1  could  not  tell  amid  the 
haze  of  the  rain  and  the  shadow  of  the  evening 
what  canvas  she  was  carrying,  I  might  gather  that 
Captain  Hoste  was  pressing  her,  by  the  heel  of  her 
tall  dim  outline,  and  by  the  occasional  glance  of 
the  froth  of  her  wake  in  the  thickness  under  her 
counter. 

I  threw  my  oar  inboards  and  sat  down  to  collect 
my  mind  and  think.  My  consternation,  as  I  have 
said,  was  almost  paralyzing.  The  suddenness  of 
the  desperate  and  dreadful  situation  in  which  I 
found  myself  benumbed  my  faculties  for  a  while.  I 
was  without  food  ;  I  was  without  drink  ;  I  was  also 
without  mast,  sail,  or  compass,  in  a  little  open  boat 
in  the  heart  of  a  wide  surface  of  sea,  the  night  at 
hand— a  night  of  storm,  as  I  might  fear  when  I  cast 
my  eyes  up  at  the  wet,  near,  scowling  face  of  the 
sky  and  then  looked  round  at  the   fast-darkening 


18       THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

sea,  narrowed  to  a  small  liorizon  by  the  gloomy 
walls  of  rain,  in  the  western  quarter  of  which  the 
American  had  already  vanished,  while  my  own  ship, 
as  I  stood  straining  my  gaze  at  the  pale  lilotcli  she 
made,  slowly  melted  out  like  one's  breath  upon  a 
looking-glass.  Yet,  heavy  as  my  heart  was  with 
the  horror  of  my  position,  I  do  not  remember  that 
I  was  then  sensible  of  despair  in  an}^  degree.  AVlien 
my  wits  in  some  measure  returned,  I  thought  to 
myself,  rascal  as  the  Yankee  captain  has  proved 
himself,  he  surely  will  not  be  such  a  villain  as  to 
leave  me  to  perish  out  here.  He  wdll  know,  by  tlie 
Ocean  Ranger  pursuing  him,  that  Captain  Hoste 
has  not  seen  my  boat.  Then  he  will  shorten  sail  to 
enable  the  Ocean  Ranger  to  approach,  and  hail 
Captain  Hoste  to  tell  him  that  I  am  adrift  some- 
where astern  ;  so  that  at  any  hour  I  may  expect  to 
see  the  loom  of  my  ship  close  at  hand  in  search  of 
me,  within  earshot,  with  a  dozen  pairs  of  eyes  on 
the  lookout  and  a  dozen  pairs  of  ears  straining  for 
my  first  cry. 

That  my  drift  might  be  as  inconsiderable  as 
possible,  I  lashed  the  two  oars  of  the  boat  together, 
made  them  fast  to  the  painter,  threw  them  over- 
board and  rode  to  them.  But  when  this  was  done 
it  was  dark,  I  may  say  pitch  dark ;  the  rain  fell 


A   YANKEE  RUSE.  19 

heavily  and  continuously,  and  the  wind  sang 
through  it  in  a  sort  of  shrill  wailing  such  as  I  had 
never  before  taken  notice  of  in  the  wind  at  sea, 
and  this  noise  put  a  new  and  distinct  horror  into 
my  situation  because  of  my  loneliness.  The  froth 
of  the  streaming  ripples  broke  bare  and  ghastly, 
and  the  run  of  the  waters  against  the  boat's  sides 
tilled  the  atmosphere  with  notes  as  of  drowning 
sobbing.  The  cold  of  the  night  was  made  piercing 
by  the  wet  of  it  and  the  quarter  whence  the  wind 
blew.  I  was  soaked  to  the  skin,  and  sat  hugging 
my  shuddering  body,  forever  staring  around  into 
the  blind  obscurity,  and  forever  seeing  nothing 
more  than  the  mocking  and  fleeting  flash  of  the 
near  run  of  froth. 

The  breeze  held  steady,  but  something  of  weight 
came  into  the  heave  of  the  little  ridges,  and  from 
time  to  time  the  chop  of  the  boat's  bows  as  she 
chucked  into  a  hollow,  meeting  the  next  bit  of  a 
sea  before  she  had  time  to  fairly  rise  to  it ;  from 
time  to  time,  I  say,  some  handfuls  of  spray  would 
come  slinging  out  of  the  darkness  forward  into 
my  face,  but  nothing  more  than  that  happened 
during  those  hours  of  midnight  gloom.  Though 
never  knowing  what  the  next  ten  minutes  might 
bring  forth,  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that  I  was 


20      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

to  be  drowned,  or  if  not  drowned  then  that  I  was 
doomed  to  some  dreadful  ending  of  insanity  which 
should  be  brought  about  by  hunger,  by  thirst,  by 
that  awful  form  of  mental  anguish  which  is  called 
despair,  and  that  if  I  were  spared  to  see  the  sun 
rise  I  should  never  see  him  set  again. 

But  the  night  passed — the  night  passed,  and  I 
remember  thanking  God  that  it  was  an  August 
night,  which  signified,  comparatively  speaking, 
short  hours  of  darkness.  It  passed,  and  the  break- 
ing dawn  found  me  crouching  and  hugging  myself 
as  I  had  been  crouching  and  hugging  myself  during 
the  black  time  that  was  now  ending,  staring  in  my 
loneliness,  and  with  a  heart  that  felt  broken,  over 
the  low  gunwale  of  the  boat  at  the  rim  of  the  sea 
which  slowly  stole  out  all  round  me  in  a  line  of  ink 
against  the  ashen  slant  of  the  sky.  It  had  ceased  to 
rain,  but  the  morning  broke  sullen  and  gloomy ;  the 
heavens  of  the  complexion  they  had  worn  when  the 
night  had  darkened  upon  them ;  the  wind  no 
stronger  tlian  before,  yet  singing  past  my  ears  with 
a  harsh  salt  shrillness  that  had  something  squall-like 
in  the  keen-edged  tone  of  it  each  time  the  head  of  a 
swell  threw  me  up  to  the  full  sweep. 

I  stood  up,  weak  and  trembling,  and  searched 
the  ocean,  but  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen.    Again 


A  YANKEE   RUSE.  21 

and  again  I  explored  the  horizon  with  eyes  ren- 
dered dim  by  my  long  vigil  and  by  the  smarting 
of  the  salt  which  lay  in  a  white  crust  abont  the  eye- 
lids and  in  the  hollows,  but  there  was  nothing  more 
to  behold  than  the  gray  ocean,  freckled  with  foam, 
throbbing  desolately  in  the  cold  gray  light  to  its 
confines  narrowed  by  the  low  seat  from  which  I 
gazed. 

I  had  now  no  hope  whatever  of  being  searched 
for  and  picked  up  ])y  my  own  ship.  I  did  not 
doubt  that  she  had  pursued  the  Yankee,  w^ho  had 
outsailed  her  and  been  lost  sight  of  by  her  in  the 
darkness,  and  that  Captain  Hoste,  understanding 
the  villainous  trick  that  had  been  played  upon  him, 
but  assuming  that  I,  as  well  as  the  tM'o  men,  had 
been  detained  by  the  American,  had  long  ago 
shifted  his  course  and  proceeded  on  his  voyage.  I 
looked  at  my  watch,  but  I  had  forgotten  to  wind  it 
"overnight,  and  it  had  stopped.  By  and  by  I  reck- 
oned the  hour  to  be  between  eight  and  nine.  There 
was  no  sun  to  tell  the  time  by.  Not  until  then  was 
I  sensible  of  hunger  and  thirst.  Now  on  a  sudden 
I  felt  the  need  of  eating  and  drinking,  and  the 
mere  circumstance  of  there  being  nothing  to  eat 
and  drink — and  more  particularly  to  drhik — fired 
my  imagination,  which  at  once  converted  thirst  into 


22      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

a  consuming  pain,  and  I  put  my  lips  to  my  wet 
sleeve  and  sucked ;  but  the  moisture  was  bitter,  bit- 
ter with  salt,  and  I  flung  myself  down  into  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat  with  a  cry  to  God  that,  if  I  was  to 
perish,  my  agony  might  come  quickly  and  end 
quickly, 

I  believe  I  lay  in  a  sort  of  stupor  for  some  hour 
or  more  ;  then  noticing  a  slight  brightening  in  the 
heavens  directly  overhead,  as  though  due  to  the  thin- 
ning of  the  body  of  vapor  just  there,  I  staggered  on 
to  my  feet,  and  no  sooner  was  my  head  above  the 
boat's  gunwale  than  I  spied  a  vessel  steering  direct- 
ly for  me,  as  I  was  immediately  able  to  perceive. 
How  far  distant  she  was  I  could  not  have  said,  but 
my  sailor's  eye  instantly  witnessed  the  course  she 
was  pursuing  by  the  aspect  of  her  canvas,  that  was 
of  a  brilliant  whiteness,  so  that  at  first  I  imagined 
her  to  be  the  American  in  search  of  me,  until,  after 
viewing  her  for  some  time  steadfastly,  I  perceived 
that  she  was  a  large  topsail  schooner,  apparently  a 
yacht,  heeling  from  the  wind,  and  sliding  nimbly 
through  the  water,  as  one  might  tell  by  the  rapidity 
with  which  the  whole  fabric  of  her  enlarged. 

The  sight  gave  me  back  all  my  strength.  I 
sprang  into  the  bows,  dragged  the  oars  inboard,  and 
to  one  of  them  attached  my  coat,  which  I  M'ent  to 


A  YANKEE  RUSE.  23 

work  to   floiirisli,   making  the  wet   serge  garment 

rattle  like  tlie  fly  of  a  flag  as  I  swept  it  round  and 

round  high  above  my  head.     Within  half  an  hour 

she  was  close  to  me,  with  her  square  canvas  aback 

to  deaden  her  way,  the  heads  of  a  immber  of  people 

dotting  the  line  of  her  rail— a  sliaj)ely  and  graceful 

vessel  indeed,  with  a  band  of  yellow  metal  along 

her  waterline,  dully  glowing  over  the  white  edge  of 

froth,  as   though  some    light  of  western    sunshine 

slept  upon  her,  her  canvas  gleaming  like  satin,  a 

spark  or  two  in  her  glossy  length  where  her  cabin 

portholes  were,  and  the  brassy  gleam  of  some  gilt 

effigy  under  her  bowsprit,   from  which   curved  to 

the  masthead  the  lustrous  pinions  of  her  jibs  and 
stavsail. 

A  red-headed  man  wearing  a  cap  with  a  naval 

peak  stood  abaft  the  main  rigging  in  company  with 

otliers,  and  as  the  beautiful  little  vessel  came  softly 

swaying  and  floating  down  over  the  heave  of  the 

swell  to  my  boat,  he  cried  out,  "  Can  you  catch  hold 

of  the  end  of  a  line  ? " 

"  Ay,  ay,"  I  answered,  in  a  weak  voice,  lifting 
my  liand. 

"  Then  look  out ! "  he  bawled. 

A  seaman  grasping  a  coil  of  rope  sprang  on  top 
of  the  bulwarks  and  sent  the  fakes  of  the  line  spin- 


24       THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

ning  to  me.  I  canglit  the  end  with  a  trembling 
grasp  and  took  a  tnrn  ronnd  a  thwart,  but  not  till 
then  could  I  have  imagined  how  weak  I  was,  for 
even  as  I  held  the  rope  my  knees  yielded  and  I 
sank  into  the  bottom  of  the  boat  in  a  posture  of 
supplication,  half  swooning.  The  next  moment  the 
little  fabric  had  swung  in  alongside  the  schooner  ; 
I  was  grasped  by  some  sailors  and  lifted  on  board. 

"  Let  the  boat  go  adrift,  she's  of  no  use  to  us," 
the  red-headed  man  cried  out. 

Another  standing  near  him  exclaimed  with  a 
Btrong  foreign  accent,  ])ut  in  good  English,  "  Stop  ! 
what  name  is  written  in  her  ?  " 

Some  one  answered,  "  The  Ocean  Ranger,  Lon- 
don." 

"  Let  that  be  noted,  and  then  let  her  go,"  said 
the  voice  with  the  foreign  accent. 

In  this  brief  while  I  stood,  scarcely  seeing 
though  I  could  hear,  supported  by  the  muscular 
grip  of  a  couple  of  the  seamen  who  had  dragged  me 
over  the  side, 

"  Bring  a  chair,"  exclaimed  the  red-headed  man. 

"ISTo,"  cried  the  other  with  a  foreign  accent, 
"  let  him  be  taken  into  the  cabin  and  fed.  Do  not 
you  see  that  he  perishes  of  hunger  and  of  thirst 
and  of  cold  ? " 


A   YANKEE   RUSE.  25 

On  this  I  was  gently  compelled  into  motion  by 
the  two  seamen,  who  conveyed  me  to  an  after  hatch 
and  thence  down  into  a  little  interior  that  glittered 
with  mirrors,  and  that  was  luminous  and  fragrant 
besides  with  flowers.  I  was  still  so  much  dazed  as 
hardly  to  be  fully  conscious  of  what  I  was  doing. 
Sudden  joy  is  as  confounding  as  sudden  grief,  and 
the  delight  of  this  deliverance  from  my  horrible 
situation  was  as  disastrous  to  my  wits  (weakened  by 
the  fearful  night  I  had  passed  through)  as  had  been 
the  shock  to  them  when  I  found  myself  adrift  in 
the  boat  on  the  previous  evening.  The  two  seamen 
quitted  the  cabin,  leaving  me  seated  at  the  table, 
but  their  place  was  immediately  taken  by  the  red- 
headed man,  by  the  gentleman  with  the  foreign 
accent,- and  a  minute  later  by  a  third  person,  a  short, 
square,  hook-nosed,  black-browed,  inky-bearded  fel- 
low. They  viewed  me  for  a  while  in  silence ;  one 
of  them  then  called  "Tom,"  and  a  negro  boy 
stepped  through  a  door  at  the  foremost  end  of  the 
cabin. 

"  Bring  brandy  and  water ;  also  some  cold  meat 
and  white  biscuit.     Bring  the  l)randv  first." 

Who  spoke  I  did  not  know.  A  tumbler  of 
grog  was  placed  in  my  hand,  but  my  arm  trembled 
so  violently  that  I  was  unalile  to  raise  the  glass  to 


20       THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

my  lips.  Some  one  tlierenpon  grasped  my  wrist  and 
enabled  me  to  drink,  which  I  did  greedily,  mutter- 
ing, as  I  recollect,  a  broken  ^'  Thank  God !  thank 
you,  gentlemen,"  as  I  put  the  glass  quivering  upon 
the  table. 

''  How  long  have  you  been  in  this  plight  ?  "  in- 
quired the  red-headed  man  in  a  voice  whose  harsh- 
ness and  coarseness,  half  demented  as  I  was,  I  re- 
member noticing. 

''  Ask  him  no  questions  yet,"  exclaimed  one  of 
the  others.  "  Let  him  have  meat,  dry  clothes,  and 
sleep,  and  he  will  rally.  Ay !  he  will  rally,  for  he 
has  a  lively  look." 

The  effect  of  the  l)randy  was  magical.  It  clari- 
fied my  sight  as  though  some  friendly  hand  had 
swept  a  cobweb  from  each  eyeball.  It  filled  my 
body  with  strong  pulses,  and  enabled  me  to  hold 
my  head  erect.  But  by  this  time  the  negro  boy 
had  reappeared  with  a  plate  of  cold  boiled  beef  and 
a  dish  of  biscuit,  and  I  fell  to — eating  with  the  ani- 
mal-like rage  of  starvation.  I  devoured  every  scrap 
that  was  set  before  me,  and  then  with  a  steady  hand 
raised  and  drained  a  second  glass  of  grog  that  had 
been  mixed  by  the  man  with  the  foreign  accent. 
And  now  I  felt  able  to  converse. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  I,  making  a  staggering  effort 


A   YANKEE   RUSE.  27 

to  bow  to  them,  "  I  thank  von  from  the  bottom  of 
my  heart  for  rescning  me  from  a  horrible  death. 
I  thank  you  gentlemen  for  this  bitterly-needed  re- 
freshment." 

"  You  are  soaked  to  the  skin,"  said  the  man 
with  the  foreign  accent.  "  You  will  tell  us  your 
story  when  you  are  dry  and  comfortable.  Captain 
Dopping,  you  can  lend  this  poor  man  some  dry 
linen  and  clothes  'i  " 

"  Ay  !  "  responded  the  other,  in  his  coarse  deter- 
mined voice.     "  Are  ye  able  to  stand  i  " 

"  I  think  so,"  I  replied. 

I  rose,  but  observing  that  I  faltered,  he  came 
round  to  where  I  was  swaying,  grasped  me  by  the 
arm  and  led  me  to  a  little  cabin  alongside  the  door 
through  which  the  negro  boy  had  emerged.  In  this 
cabin  were  two  shallow  bunks  or  sleeping-shelves, 
one  on  top  of  the  other.  The  room  was  lighted  by 
a  circular  porthole,  and  by  what  is  called  a  bull's-eye 
— a  piece  of  thick  glass  let  into  the  deck  overhead. 
My  companion  rummaged  a  locker,  and  tossing  a 
number  of  garments  into  the  lower  Inink,  bade  me 
take  my  pick  and  shift  myself  and  then  turn  in, 
and,  saying  this  in  a  harsh,  fierce  way,  he  withdrew. 

I  removed  my  wet  clothes,  and  grateful  beyond 
all  expression  was  the  comfort  of  warm  dry  apparel 


28       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

to  my  skin,  that  for  more  than  twelv^e  lioiirs  had 
been  soaked  with  rain  and  steeped  in  brine.  I  then 
stretched  my  length  in  the  lower  sleeping-shelf,  and, 
after  putting  np  a  prayer  of  gratitude  for  my  deliv- 
erance, closed  my  eyes  and  in  a  few  minutes  fell 
asleep. 

I  slept  until  about  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. On  waking  I  found  the  interior  bright  with 
sunshine.  I  lay  for  a  little,  thinking  and  taking  a 
view  of  the  cabin.  My  faculties,  refreshed  by 
sleep,  were  sharp  in  me.  I  could  remember  clearly 
and  realize  keenly.  The  disaster  which  had  be- 
fallen me  was  a  great  professional  blow.  It  had 
deprived  me  of  my  ship,  and  robbed  me  of  an  ap- 
pointment I  had  been  forced  to  wait  some  tedious 
months  to  obtain.  With  the  ship  had  gone  all  my 
clothes,  all  my  eifects,  everything,  in  short,  I  pos- 
sessed in  the  wide  world,  saving  a  few  pounds 
which  I  had  left  in  a  bank  at  home.  The  Ocean 
Eanger  was  bound  on  a  voyage  that  would  keep  her 
away  from  England  for  two  years  and  a  half,  per- 
haps three  years  ;  so  that  for,  let  me  say,  three 
years  all  that  I  owned  in  the  world,  saving  my  few 
pounds,  would  be  as  utterly  lost  to  me  as  though  it 
had  gone  to  the  bottom. 

While  I  thus  lay  musing,  the  door  of  the  berth 


A  YANKEE  RUSE.  29 

opened,  and  the  red-headed  man — Captain  Dopping 
— entered.  Having  my  eyes  clear  in  my  head  now, 
I  immediately  observed  that  he  was  a  freckled,  red- 
haired,  staring  man,  with  big  protruding  moist  blue 
eyes  and  scarlet  \vhiskers ;  all  of  his  front  teeth  but 
two  or  three  were  gone,  and  the  gaps  in  his  gums 
gave  his  face,  when  he  parted  his  lips,  the  grin  of  a 
skull. 

I  got  out  of  the  l)unk  when  he  entered. 
"  How  do  you  feel  now  'i "  said  he,  eying  me  in 
a  hard,  deliberate,  unwinking  way. 
"  Refreshed  and  recovered,"  said  I. 
He  ran  his  gaze  over  my  figure  to  observe  what 
garments  belonging  to  him  I  had  arrayed  myself  in, 
then  said,  "  What  is  your  name  ? " 
"  James  Portlack." 
"  What  are  you  ? " 

"  What  was  I,  you  must  ask,"  said  I,  with  a 
melancholy  shake  of  the  head.  "  Second  mate  of 
the  bark  Ocean  Ranger,"  and  I  told  him  briefly 
of  the  abominable  trick  which  the  Yankee  captain 
had  played  off  on  Captain  Hoste,  and  which  had 
resulted  in  leaving  me  adrift  in  the  desperate  and 
dying  condition  I  had  been  rescued  from. 

"  A  cute  dodge,  truly,"  said  he,  without  any  ex- 
hibition of  astonishment  or  dislike,  nay,  with  a  hint 


30      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

in  his  air  of  liaving  found  something  to  rehsh  in 
the  American's  device.  "It  is  what  a  Welshman 
would  call  '  clobber.'  This  is  a  yarn  to  tickle  Don 
Christoval." 

"  Who  is  Don  Christoval  ?  "  said  I. 

"  He  is  Don  Christoval  del  Padron." 

"  The  owner  of  this  schooner?" 

He  gave  a  hard  smile,  but  returned  no  answer, 

"  What  is  the  name  of  this  vessel  ? "  I  asked. 

"  La  Casandra." 

"  Where  are  you  from  ? " 

"  Cadiz." 

"  To  what  port?  "  said  I,  with  anxiety. 

He  gave  another  hard  smile,  and  then,  eying  me 
all  over  afresh,  exclaimed,  "Come  along  on  deck, 
Don  Christoval  and  Don  Lazarillo  will  be  wanting 
to  see  you,  now  you're  awake." 

I  asked  him  to  lend  me  a  cap,  not  knowing 
what  had  become  of  mine,  and  followed  him 
through  the  small  ])rilliant  cabin  into  which  I  had 
been  conducted  by  the  two  seamen.  I  had  a  quick 
eye,  and  took  note  of  many  things  in  a  moment  or 
two.  The  cabin  was  peculiarly  furnished,  that  is, 
for  a  sea-going  interior.  It  gleamed  with  hanging 
mirrors  ;  the  sides  were  embellished  with  pictures, 
such   as   might   hang   upon  the   walls   of   a   room 


A   YANKEE   RUSE.  31 

ashore  ;  tliere  were  little  sofas  and  arm-chairs,  of  a 
kind  you  might  see  in  a  drawing-room,  but  not  in 
the  cabin  of  a  vessel,  whether  a  pleasure-craft  or 
not.  In  short,  it  was  evident  that  a  portion  of  the 
furniture  of  a  house  had  been  employed  for  fitting 
out  this  interior.  But  where  the  vessel  herself 
showed,  I  mean  the  ceiling  or  upper  deck,  the  sides, 
the  planks  left  visible  by  the  carpet — tliere  all  was 
plain  and  even  rough,  by  which  signs  I  might  know 
that  La  Casandra  was  not  a  yacht,  despite  the  shin- 
ing of  the  mirrors  and  the  gilt  of  the  picture- 
frames,  the  rich  carpet  under  foot,  the  crimson  vel- 
vet sofas  and  chairs. 

I  followed  Captain  Dopping  up  the  narrow 
companion-steps,  and  gained  the  deck.  The  rain 
was  gone,  the  gloomy  sky  had  rolled  away  down 
the  western  sea-line,  and  the  afternoon  sun  shone 
gloriously  in  a  sky  of  blue  piebald  with  stately  sail- 
ing masses  of  swollen  cream-colored  vapor,  which 
studded  the  blue  surface  of  the  sea  with  island-like 
spaces  of  violet  shadow.  A  pleasant  breeze  was 
blowing,  and  it  was  warm  with  tlie  sunshine.  The 
schooner  was  under  all  the  canvas  it  was  possible  to 
spread  upon  her,  and  how  fast  she  was  sailing  I 
might  know  by  the  white  line  of  her  wake,  I  had 
no  eyes  at  the  instant  for  anything  but  the  horizon, 


32       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

tlie  whole  girdle  of  which  I  rapidly  scanned  with 
some  wild  silly  notion  in  me  of  catching  a  sight  of 
the  cloths  of  the  Ocean  Kanger,  that  in  searching 
for  me  might  have  been  navigated  some  leagues  to 
the  north. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   PEOPLE   OF   LA   CASANDRA. 

The  two  foreigners,  as  I  might  suppose  them 
to  be — the  two  gentlemen  who  had  talked  to  me  and 
viewed  me  in  the  cabin  before  I  went  to  the  cap- 
tain's berth — these  men  were  pacing  the  sand-colored 
planks  of  the  quarter-deck  arm  in  arm,  cigars  in 
their  mouths,  as  I  emerged  ;  but,  on  seeing  me,  they 
came  to  a  halt.  One  was  a  truly  noble-looking  fel- 
low, rising  a  full  inch  taller  than  six  feet,  and  of  a 
magnificently  proportioned  shape.  This  was  the 
man  who  had  addressed  me  in  good  English,  but 
with  a  foreign  accent.  He  was,  besides,  an  exceed- 
ingly handsome  person,  his  complexion  very  dark, 
his  eyes  of  the  dead  blackness  of  the  Indian's,  but 
soft  and  glo^\^ng ;  he  wore  a  large  heavy  mustache, 
black  as  ink,  and  curling  to  his  ears ;  his  teeth  were 
strong,  large,  and  of  an  ivory  whiteness.  Plain 
sailor-man  as  I  was,  used  to  the  commonplace  char- 


34      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

acter  and  countenance  of  the  mariner,  I  was  with- 
out any  art  in  the  decipliering  of  the  mind  by  gaz- 
ing at  the  lineaments  of  the  human  face.  To  me 
tliis  person  offered  himself  as  a  noble,  handsome 
man,  of  imposing  presence,  of  a  beauty  even  stately  ; 
but  when  I  think  of  him  now  in  the  light  of  that 
larger  knowledge  of  human  nature  which  years 
have  taught  me,  when  I  recall  his  face,  I  say,  I  am 
conscious  of  having  missed  something  in  the  ex- 
pression of  it  which  must  have  helped  me  to  a  tol- 
erably accurate  perception  of  the  real  character  of 
this  schooner's  errand,  when  the  "  motive  "  of  her 
voyage  was  explained  to  me. 

His  companion  was  a  short  man,  a  true  Spaniard 
in  his  looks ;  his  large  hooked  nose,  his  searching, 
restless,  brilliant  black  eyes,  his  mustaches  and 
short  black  beard  might  well  have  qualified  him  to 
sit  for  a  picture  of  Cervantes,  according  to  such 
prints  of  that  great  author  as  I  have  seen.  They 
were  both  well  dressed — too  well  dressed,  indeed. 
They  wore  overcoats  richly  furred,  velvet  coats  be- 
neath, splendid  waistcoats,  and  so  forth.  The  fin- 
gers of  the  shorter  man  sparkled  with  precious 
stones.  There  was  a  stout  gold  chain  round  his 
neck,  and  a  costly  brooch  in  his  cravat.  They  both 
fastened  a  penetrating  gaze  upon  me  for  some  mo- 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  LA  CASANDRA.      35 

ments,  and  exchanged  a  few  sentences  in  Spanish 
before  addressing  me. 

"  The  gentleman's  name  is  Portlack — Mr.  Port- 
lack,  Don  Christoval,"  said  Captain  Dopping: 
"  he  was  second  mate  of  a  bark  named  the  Ocean 
Ranger.  He  was  hocussed,  as  the  Pikejs  (gypsies) 
say,  by  an  American  captain.  He'll  tell  you  the 
story,  sir." 

"  How  do  you  feel  ? "  said  Don  Christoval. 

"  Perfectly  recovered,  I  thank  you,"  said  I. 

"  I  am  glad.  We  were  not  too  soon.  I  believe 
that  another  twenty-four  hours  of  your  desperate 
situation  must  have  killed  you,"  said  this  tall  Don, 
delivering  his  words  slowly,  and  looking  very  state- 
ly, and  speaking  in  English  so  correctly  that  I  won- 
dered at  his  foreign  accent. 

"  Yot  ees  secon'  mate  ? "  inquired  the  shorter 
man,  pronouncing  the  words  with  difficulty. 

"  Why,  you  might  call  it  second  lieutenant,  Don 
Lazarillo,"  replied  Captain  Dopping. 

"  It  is  a  position  of  trust ;  it  is  a  position  of 
distinction  on  board  ship  ?  "  exclaimed  Don  Chris- 
toval. 

"  Oh  yes,"  said  Captain  Dopping. 

"  Do  you  know  navigation  ? "  asked  the  tall 
Don. 


36       THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA   NOBLE. 

"  I  liold  a  master's  certificate,"  I  replied,  smiling. 

"  Explain,"  said  Don  Lazarillo  sharply,  as  though 
his  mind  were  under  some  constant  strain  of  un- 
healthy anxiety. 

"  I  do  not  speak  a  word  of  Spanish,"  said  I, 
turning  to  Captain  Dopping. 

"  ]S[o  need  for  it,"  said  he,  in  his  harsh  accents. 
"  A  master's  certificate,  Don  Christoval,  enables  the 
holder  of  it  to  take  charge  of  a  ship,  and  in  order  to 
take  charge  of  a  ship  a  man  is  supposed  to  know 
everything  that  concerns  the  profession  of  the 
sea." 

"  Explain,"  cried  Don  Lazarillo  with  impatience. 

His  tall  companion  translated ;  on  which  the 
other,  nodding  vehemently,  stroked  his  mustaches 
while  he  again  surveyed  me  from  head  to  foot,  let- 
ting his  eyes,  full  of  fire,  settle  with  the  most  search- 
ing look  that  can  be  imagined  upon  my  face.  I 
caught  Don  Christoval  exchanging  a  glance  with 
Captain  Dopping.  There  was  a  brief  pause  while 
the  tall  Don  lighted  his  cigar.  He  then  said,  with 
a  smile : 

"  You  have  lost  your  ship,  sir  ? " 

"  I  have,  I  am  sorry  to  say." 

"  What  will  you  do,  sir  ? " 

"  It  is  for  you  to  dispose  of  me.     I  should  be 


THE  PEOPLE  OP  LA  CASANDRA.       3f 

glad  to  make  myself  nsefuJ  to  you  mitil  you  trans- 
fer me  or  land  me." 

"  But  then— but  then  ? " 

"  Then  I  must  endeavor  to  obtain  another  berth," 
said  I. 

"  Explain,"  cried  Don  Lazarillo. 

Don  Christoval  spoke  to  him  in  Spanish. 

"  You  are  a  gentleman  by  birth  ?  "  said  the  tall 
Don. 

"  My  father  was  a  clergyman,"  I  answered. 

"  Yes,  sir,  that  is  very  good.  Your  speech  tells 
me  you  are  genteel.  To  speak  English  well  you 
must  be  genteel.  Education  will  enable  you  to  speak 
English  grammatically,  but  it  will  not  help  you  to 
pronounce  it  properly.  For  example,  a  man  vul- 
garly born,  who  is  educated  too,  will  omit  his  h's, 
and  he  will  neglect  his  g's.  He  will  say  nothin',  and 
he  will  say  'ouse  instead  of  house.  Yes,  I  know  it 
— I  know  it,"  said  he,  smiling.  "  Well,  you  shall 
tell  me  now  all  about  your  adventure." 

This  I  did.  He  occasionally  stopped  me  while 
he  interpreted  to  his  companion,  who  listened  to  him 
with  eager  attention,  while  he  would  also  strain  his 
ears  with  his  eyes  sternly  fixed  upon  my  face  when 
I  spoke.  When  I  had  made  an  end,  Don  Christo- 
val drew  Captain  Dopping  to  him  by  a  backward 


38      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

motion  of  his  liead,  and,  after  addressing  him  in  low 
tones,  he  took  Don  Lazarillo's  arm,  and  the  pair  of 
them  fell  to  patrolling  the  deck. 

"  "We  shall  sling  a  hammock  for  you  under  the 
main  hatch,"  said  Captain  Dopping,  walking  up 
to  me.  "  Sorry  we  can't  accommodate  you  aft. 
There's  scarce  room  for  a  rat  in  my  corner,  let  alone 
two  men." 

"  Any  part  of  the  schooner  will  serve  to  sling  a 
hammock  in  for  me,"  said  I. 

"  You  will  take  your  meals  with  me  in  the  cabin," 
said  he.    "  I  eat  when  the  two  gentlemen  have  done." 

"  Where  does  your  mate  live  ? "  said  I. 

"  I  have  no  mate,"  he  answered.  "  We  were  in 
a  hurry,  and  could  not  find  a  man." 

He  eyed  me  somewhat  oddly  as  he  spoke,  as 
though  to  mark  the  effect  of  his  words. 

"  But  is  there  no  one  to  help  you  to  keep  a  look- 
out?" 

"  Ay  !  a  seaman,"  he  answered,  carelessly.  "  But 
now  that  you're  aboard  we  will  be  able  to  relieve 
him  from  that  duty." 

"  Whatever  you  put  me  to,"  said  I,  "  you  will 
find  me  as  willing  at  it  as  gratitude  can  make  a 


man." 


He  roughly  nodded,  and  asked  me  what  part  of 


THE   PEOPLE  OP  LA  CASANDRA.  39 

England  I  came  from.     I  answered  that  I  was  born 
near  Guildford. 

"I  hail  from  Deal,"  said  he.  "Do  you  know 
Deal  ? " 

"  Well,"  I  answered  ;  and  spoke  of  some  people 
whom  I  had  visited  there ;  gave  him  the  names  of 
the  streets,  and  of  a  number  of  boatmen  I  had  con- 
versed with  during  my  stay  at  the  salt  and  shingly 
place.  This  softened  him.  It  was  marvelous  to 
observe  how  the  magic  of  memory,  the  tenderness 
of  recollected  association  humanized  the  coarse, 
harsh,  bold,  and  staring  looks  of  this  scarlet-haired 
man. 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  you  have  not  3^et  told  me  where 
this  schooner  is  bound  to." 

"  You  will  hear  all  about  it,"  he  answered,  with 
his  usual  air  returning  to  him. 

I  was  not  a  little  astonished  by  this  answer.  Had 
the  schooner  sailed  on  some  piratic  expedition? 
"Was  there  some  colossal  undertaking  of  smuggling 
in  contemplation  ?  But  though  piracy,  to  be  sure, 
still  flourished,  it  was  hardly  to  be  thought  of  in 
relation  with  those  northern  seas  toward  which  the 
schooner  was  heading  ;  while  as  for  smuggling,  if 
the  four  seamen  whom  I  counted  at  work  about  the 
vessel's  deck  comprised — with   the  fifth  man,  who 


40      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

was  at  her  helm — the  whole  of  the  crew,  there  was 
nothing  in  any  theory  of  a  contraband  adventure  to 
solve  the  problem  submitted  by  Captain  Dopping's 
reticence. 

He  left  me  abruptly,  and  walked  forward  and 
addressed  one  of  the  men,  apparently  speaking  of 
the  job  the  fellow  was  upon.  I  listened  for  that 
note  of  bullying,  for  that  tone  of  habitual  brutal 
temper,  which  I  should  have  expected  to  hear  in 
him  when  he  accosted  the  seamen,  and  was  sur- 
prised to  find  that  he  spoke  as  a  comrade  rather 
than  as  a  captain  ;  with  something  even  of  careless 
familiarity  in  his  manner  as  he  addressed  the  man. 

I  had  now  an  opportunity  for  the  first  time 
since  I  came  on  deck  to  inspect  the  schooner.  It 
was  easy  to  see  that  she  had  never  been  built  as  a 
yacht ;  her  appearance,  indeed,  suggested  that  in  her 
day  she  had  been  employed  as  a  slaver.  She  was 
old,  but  very  powerfully  constructed,  and  seemingly 
still  as  fine  a  sea-boat  as  was  at  that  time  to  be 
encountered  on  the  ocean.  Her  bulwarks  were  high 
and  immensely  thick  ;  the  fore-part  of  her  had  a  rise, 
or  "  spring "  as  it  is  called,  which  gave  a  look  of 
domination  and  defiance  to  her  round  bows  which  at 
the  forefoot  narrowed  into  a  stem  of  knife-like  sharp- 
ness.    She  was  very  loftily  rigged  and  expanded  an 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  LA  CASANDRA.      4I 

enormous  l)readtli  of  mainsail.  I  had  never  before 
seen  so  long  a  gaff,  and  the  boom  when  amidships 
forked  far  out  over  the  stern.  Her  decks  were  very 
clean  but  grayish  with  bi-ine  and  years  of  hard 
usao;e.  I  noticed  that  she  carried  a  small  boat  hanc;- 
ing  in  davits  on  the  starboard  side,  and  a  large  boat 
abaft  the  little  caboose  or  kitchen  that  stood  like  a 
sentry-box  forward.  This  boat,  indeed,  resembled  a 
man-of-war's  cutter — such  a  long  and  heavy  fabric 
as  one  would  certainly  not  think  of  looking  for  on 
board  a  craft  of  the  size  of  La  Casandra.  It  was 
my  sailor's  eye  that  carried  my  mind  to  this  detail. 
'No  man  but  a  sailor,  and  perhaps  a  suspicious  sailor 
as  I  then  was,  standing  as  I  did  upon  the  deck  of  a 
vessel  whose  destination  was  still  a  secret  to  me, 
would  have  noticed  that  boat. 

The  five  of  a  crew  were  all  of  them  Englishmen, 
strong,  hearty  fellows.  I  inspected  them  curiously, 
but  could  find  nothing  in  them  that  did  not  suggest 
the  plain,  average,  honest  merchant  sailor.  They 
were  well  clothed  for  men  of  their  class,  habited  in 
tlie  jackets,  round  hats  and  wide  trousers  of  the 
Jacks  of  my  period,  and  I  took  notice  that  though 
their  captain  stood  near  them  they  worked  as  though 
without  sense  of  his  presence,  occasionally  calling 
a  remark  one  to  another,  and  laughing,  but  not  nois- 


42       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

ily,  as  if  what  discipline  there  was  on  board  the 
schooner  existed  largely  in  the  crew's  choice  of 
behavior.  These  and  other  points  I  remarked,  but 
nothing  that  I  saw  helped  me  to  any  sort  of  conclu- 
sion as  to  the  destination  of  the  little  ship  or  the 
motive  of  the  cruise.  All  that  I  could  collect  was 
that  here  was  a  schooner  bearing  a  Spanish  name 
and  owned  or  hired  by  one  or  both  of  those  Span- 
iards, who  continued  to  pace  the  quarter-deck  arm-in- 
arm, but  manned,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  by  a  com- 
pany of  five  Englishmen  and  a  negro  lad,  and  com- 
manded by  an  English  skipper. 

I  walked  a  little  way  forward,  the  better  to 
observe  the  vessel's  rig  at  the  fore,  and  on  my 
approaching  the  galley,  a  fellow  put  his  head  out  of 
it — making  a  sixth  man  now  visible.  He  kept  his 
head  out  to  stare  at  me.  Many  ugly  men  have  I 
met  in  my  time,  but  never  so  hideous  a  creature  as 
that.  His  nationality  I  could  not  imagine,  though 
it  was  not  long  before  I  learned  that  he  was  a  Span- 
iard. His  coal-black  hair  fell  in  a  shower  of  greasy 
snake-like  ringlets  upon  his  back  and  shoulders. 
One  eye  was  whitened  by  a  cataract  or  some  large 
pearly  blotch,  and  the  other  seemed  to  me  to  possess 
as  malevolent  an  expression  as  could  possibly  deform 
a  pupil  unnaturally  large,  and  still  further  disfigured 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  LA  CASANDRA.      43 

by  a  very  net-work  of  Llood-red  lines.  His  nose 
appeared  to  have  been  leveled  flat  with  his  face  at 
the  bridge  by  a  blow,  leaving  the  lower  portion  of 
it  standing  straight  out  in  the  shape  of  the  thick 
end  of  a  small  broken  carrot.  His  lips  of  leather, 
his  complexion  of  chocolate,  his  three  or  four  yel- 
low fangs,  his  mat  of  close  cropped  whiskers,  coarse 
as  horse-hair,  his  apparel  of  blue  shirt  open  at  the 
neck  and  revealing  a  little  gilt  or  gold  crucifix,  a 
pair  of  tarry  leather  trousers,  carpet  slippers,  and  the 
remains  of  an  old  Scotch  cap  that  lay  rather  than 
sat  upon  his  hair  ;  all  these  points  combined  in  pro- 
ducing one  of  the  most  extraordinary  figures  that 
had  ever  crossed  my  path — a  path,  I  may  say,  that 
in  my  time  had  carried  me  into  many  wild  scenes, 
and  to  the  contemplation  of  many  strange  surprising 
sights. 

While  this  prodigy  of  ugliness  and  I  were  star- 
ing at  each  other,  the  caj^tain  came  across  the  deck 
to  me. 

"  AVhat  do  you  think  of  this  schooner  ?  "  he 
said. 

"  She  is  a  very  good  schooner.  She  is  old — per- 
haps thirty  years  old.  I  believe  she  has  carried 
slaves  in  her  time." 

"  I  know  it,"  he  replied,  with  a  strong  nod,  to 


44  THE  TRxiGEDY  OB^  IDA   NOBLE. 

which  his  furiously  red  hair  seemed  to  impart  a 
character  of  hot  temper. 

"I  have  seen,"  said  I,  "liaiidsomer  men  than 
yonder  beauty  who  is  staring  at  me  from  the  galley 
door." 

"  Ay.  He  is  good  enough  to  shut  up  in  a  box 
and  to  carry  about  as  a  show.  He  is  cook  and 
steward.  His  name  is  Juan  de  Mariana.  He  cooks 
well,  and  is  or  has  been  a  domestic  in  Don  Lazaril- 
lo's  establishment." 

"  How  many  go  to  your  crew  ?  "  said  I,  ques- 
tioning him  with  an  air  of  indifference  now  that  I 
found  he  was  disposed  to  be  communicative. 

"  Eight." 

"  The  number  includes  you  and  the  cook  and 
the  nigger  lad  ? " 

He  nodded,  and  looked  at  me  suddenly,  as 
though  about  to  deliver  something  on  the  top  of 
his  mind,  then  checked  himself,  and  pulling  out  his 
watch,  exclaimed  :  "  I  understand  you  are  willing  to 
serve  as  mate  of  this  vessel," 

"  I  am  willing  to  do  anything.  Do  not  I  owe 
my  life  to  you  all  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  that  may  be  settled  now.  It 
is  Don  Christoval's  wish.  As  to  pay,  him  and  me 
will  go  into  that  matter  with  you  by  and  by." 


THE  PEOPLE  OP  LA  CASANDRA.      45 

I  opened  my  eyes  at  the  sound  of  the  word^ay, 
but  made  no  remark.  It  was  a  grateful  sound,  as 
you  will  suppose,  to  a  man  who  had  as  good  as 
lost  everything  save  what  he  stood  up  in,  and  who, 
when  he  got  ashore,  might  find  it  very  hard  to  ob- 
tain another  berth.  The  two  Spanish  gentlemen 
had  left  the  deck.  Captain  Dopping ,  said  :  "Step 
aft  with  me,"  and  we  walked  as  far  as  the  cabin 
skylight,  where  facing  about  the  captain  called  out, 
"  Trapp,  South,  Butler,  Scott,  lay  aft,  my  lads.  I 
have  a  word  to  say  to  you."  He  then  turned  to  the 
fellow  who  stood  at  the  helm  and  exclaimed,  "  Tubb, 
you'll  be  listening." 

The  seamen  quitted  their  several  employments 
and  came  to  the  quarter-deck.  The  Spanish  cook 
stepped  out  of  the  galley  to  hearken,  and  a  moment 
later  the  ebony  face  of  the  negro  showed  in  the 
square  of  the  forecastle  hatch  The  sailors  looked 
as  though  they  pretty  well  guessed  what  was  com- 
ing. 

"  Lads,"  said  Captain  Dopping,  placing  his  hand 
upon  my  arm,  "  this  here  is  Mr.  James  Portlack. 
lie  was  second  mate  of  the  bark.  Ocean  Hanger, 
a  ship  I  know." 

"  And  I  know  her,  too,"  said  one  of  the  men. 

"Mr.  Portlack,"   continued   Captain   Dopping, 


4:6      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  holds  a  master's  certificate,  which  is  more  than  I 
do,  and  he  tops  me  by  that.  But  I'm  yom*  captain, 
and  your  captain  I  remain.  Mr.  Portlack  consents 
to  act  as  the  mate  of  the  Casandra.  Is  this  aerree- 
able  to  you,  lads  ?  " 

"  Ay,  ay ;  agreeable  enough,"  was  the  general 
answer. 

"  "Well,  then,  Butler,  you're  displaced,  d'ye  see  ? 
No  call  for  you  to  relieve  me  any  longer." 

"  And  a  good  job  too,"  said  the  man,  a  heavy, 
sturdy,  powerfully  built  fellow  with  small,  honest, 
glittering  blue  eyes,  and  immense  bushy  whiskers  ; 
"  there  was  nothin'  said  about  my  taking  charge  of 
the  deck  in  the  agreement." 

"Well,  you're  out  of  it,"  exclaimed  Captain 
Dopping,  "  and  the  ship's  company's  stronger  by  a 
hand,  which  is  as  it  should  be.  D'ye  hear  me, 
cook  ? " 

"  Yasli,  yash,  I  hear  all  right,  capitan,"  answered 
the  swarthy  creature  from  the  door  of  his  galley, 
contorting  his  countenance  into  the  aspect  of  a  hor- 
rid face  beheld  by  one  in  a  high  fever,  in  his  strug- 
gle to  articulate  in  English. 

"  That'll  do,  my  lads,"  said  the  captain. 

The  men  leisurely  rounded  and  went  forward 
again.     There  was  nothing  unusual  in  this  proceed- 


THE  PEOPLE  OP  LA  CASANDRA.      47 

ing.  It  -was  customary,  it  maj  still  be  customary  at 
sea,  to  invite  tlie  decision  of  tlie  crew  before  elect- 
ing a  man  to  fill  a  vacant  post  as  first  or  second 
mate.  All  that  I  found  singular  lay  in  tlie  behav- 
ior of  the  men.  There  was  sometliing  in  their  bear- 
ing I  find  it  impossible  to  convey — a  suggestion  of 
resolution  struggling  with  reluctance,  or  it  might  be 
that  they  gave  me  the  impression  of  fgllows  who 
had  entered  upon  an  undertaking  without  wholly 
understanding  its  nature  or  without  fully  believing 
in  the  sincerity  of  its  promoters.  But  be  their 
manner  what  it  might,  its  efl:"ect  upon  me  was  to 
greatly  sharpen  my  curiosity  as  to  the  object  of  this 
schooner's  voyage  from  Cadiz  to  the  north  as  she 
was  now  heading. 

I  said  to  Captain  Dopping,  "  I  M'ill  take  charge 
at  once  if  you  wish  to  go  below*" 

"  Very  \vell,"  said  he,  ''■  I  will  relieve  you  at 
four  bells,  and  that  will  give  you  the  first  watch  to 
stand,"  by  which  he  meant  the  watch  from  eight 
o'clock  till  midnight. 

"  But  I  do  not  know  your  destination,"  said  I. 
"  How  is  the  schooner  to  be  steered  ?  " 

"  As  she  goes,"  said  he  with  a  significant  nod, 
angry  with  the  scarlet  flash  of  hair  and  whisker 
which  accompanied  it. 


48       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

"Eiglit,"  said  I,  and  fell  to  pacing  the  deck, 
while  he  disappeared  down  the  companion-way. 

Athirst  as  I  was  for  information,  I  was  deter- 
mined that  my  curiosity  should  not  be  suspected. 
Be  the  errand  of  this  little  ship  what  it  might,  I  was 
always  my  own  master,  able  to  say  "  No  "  to  any 
proposals  I  should  object  to,  though  taking  care  to 
give  due  effect  by  willingness  in  all  honest  direc- 
tions to  the  gratitude  excited  in  me  by  my  deliver- 
ance. I  would  find  the  fellow  at  the  helm  watch- 
ing me  with  an  expression  on  his  weather-darkened 
face  that  was  the  same  as  saying  he  was  willing  to 
tell  all  he  knew,  but  I  took  no  notice  of  him,  con- 
tenting myself  with  merely  observing  the  vessel's 
course  and  seeing  that  she  was  kept  to  it.  The 
voices  of  the  two  Spaniards  and  Captain  Dopping 
rose  through  the  little  skylight,  one  of  which  lay 
open.  They  spoke  in  English,  and  occasionally  I 
heard  my  name  pronounced  with  now  and  then  a 
sharp  hissing  "  Explain  "  from  Don  Lazarillo,  but  I 
did  not  catch,  nor  did  I  endeavor  to  catch,  any 
syllables  of  a  kind  to  furnish  me  with  a  sense  of 
their  discourse. 

All  this  afternoon  the  weather  continued  rich, 
glowing,  summer-like.  One  seemed  to  taste  the 
aromas  of  the  land  in  the  eastern  gushing  of  the 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  LA  CASAXDRA.      49 

blue  and  sparkling  breeze.  The  three  white  spires 
of  a  tall  ship  glided  like  stars  along  the  western 
rim,  but  though  we  w^ere  in  the  great  ocean  high- 
way nothing  else  showed  during  the  remainder  of 
the  hours  of  light.  Beyond  a  little  feeling  of  stiff- 
ness and  of  aching  in  my  joints  I  was  sensible  of  no 
bad  results  of  my  night-long  bitter  and  perilous 
exposure  in  the  jolly-boat  of  the  Ocean  Ranger. 
I  had,  indeed,  been  too  long  seasoned  by  the  sea  to 
suffer  grievously  from  an  experience  of  this  sort. 
Night  after  night  off  the  black  and  howling  Horn, 
off  the  stormy  headland  of  Agulhas,  amid  mount- 
ainous seas,  in  frosty  hurricanes  whose  biting  breath 
was  sharpened  yet  by  hills  and  islands  of  ice  glanc- 
ing dimly  through  the  snow-thickened  darkness,  I 
had  kept  the  deck,  I  had  helped  to  stow  the  canvas 
aloft,  I  had  toiled  at  the  pumps,  waist-high  in 
water,  my  hair  crackling  with  ice,  my  hands  without 
feeling.  No  !  I  was  too  seasoned  to  suffer  severely 
from  the  after-effects  of  exposure  in  an  open  boat 
throughout  an  August  night  in  the  Portuguese 
parallels. 

At  five  o'clock,  when  I  glanced  through  tlie 
skylight,  I  spied  tlie  negro  lad  named  Tom  laying 
the  cloth  in  the  little  cabin.  Occasionally  a  whiff 
of  cooking,  strong  with  onions  or    garlic,    would 


50       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

come  blowing  aft  in  some  back-dranglit  out  of  the 
canvas.  I  judged  that  the  crew  were  well  fed  by 
observing  one  of  them  step  out  of  the  galley  and 
enter  the  forecastle,  bearing  a  smoking  round  of 
boiled  beef  and  a  quantity  of  potatoes  in  their 
skins ;  then  by  seeing  another  follow  him  with 
pots  of  coffee  or  tea,  two  or  three  loaves  of  bread, 
and  other  articles  of  food  which  I  could  not 
distinguish.  Fare  so  substantial  and  bountiful 
seemed  to  my  fancy  a  very  unusual  entertainment 
for  a  forecastle  tea  or  "  supper,"  as  the  last  meal  at 
sea  is  commonly  called. 

I  found  myself  Avatching  everything  that  passed 
before  me  with  growing  curiosity.  The  hideous 
cook  Mariana,  followed  by  the  negro  boy  bearing 
dishes,  came  aft  with  the  cabin  dinner,  and  present- 
ly^ when  I  peeped  again  through  the  skylight  as  I 
trudged  the  deck  in  the  pendulum  walk  of  the  look- 
out at  sea,  I  perceived  the  two  Spaniards  at  table. 
The  several  dyes  of  wines  in  decanters  blended  with 
the  brilliance  of  silver — or  of  what  resembled 
silver — and  other  decorative  details  of  flowers  and 
fruit,  and  the  square  of  the  skylight  framed  a  pictur- 
esquely festal  scene.  It  was  possible  to  peep  with- 
out being  observed.  The  Spaniards  talked  inces- 
santly ;  their  speech  rose  in  a  melodious  hum ;  for  to 


THE  PEOPLE  OP  LA  CASANDRA.      51 

pronounce  Spanish  is,  to  my  ear,  to  utter  music. 
But  the  majestic  dialect  was  as  Greek  to  me.  Don 
Lazarillo  gesticulated  with  vehemence,  and  I  never 
glanced  at  the  skylight  without  observing  him  in 
the  act  of  draining  his  glass.  Don  Christoval  was 
less  demonstrative.  He  was  slow  and  stately  in 
his  movements,  and  when  he  flourished  his  arm  or 
clasped  his  hands,  or  leaned  back  in  his  chair  to  re- 
volve the  point  of  his  mustache  with  long,  large, 
but  most  shapely  fingers,  he  made  one  think  of 
Bome  fine  actor  in  an  opera  scene. 

It  was  six  o'clock  by  the  time  they  had  dined, 
and  at  this  hour  the  seamen  taking  the  privilege  of 
the  "  dog  watch  " — but,  indeed,  it  was  all  privilege 
from  morning  to  night  in  that  schooner — were  pac- 
ing the  deck  forward,  four  of  them,  every  man 
smoking  his  pipe — the  fifth  man  being  at  the  tiller. 
I  might  now  make  sure  that  there  went  but  five  sea- 
men to  this  ship's  company.  The  ugly  cook  leaned 
in  the  door  of  his  galley  puffing  at  a  cigarette.  The 
sun  was  low,  his  light  crimson ;  his  fan-shaped  wake 
streamed  in  scarlet  glory  under  him  to  the  very 
shadow  of  the  schooner,  and  the  little  fabric,  slightly 
leaning  from  the  soft  and  pleasant  breeze,  fioated 
through  the  rose-colored  atmosphere,  her  sails  of 
the  tincture  of  delicate  cloth  of  gold,  her  bright 


52      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

masts  veined  with  fire,  her  shrouds  as  she  gently 
rolled  catching  the  western  light  until  thej  burned 
out  upon  tlie  eye  as  though  of  polished  brass. 

The  two  Spaniards  arrived  on  deck,  each  with  an 
immensely  long  cigar  in  his  mouth.  Don  Christo- 
val  addressed  me  pleasantly  in  his  excellent  English. 
He  asked  me  with  an  air  of  grand  courtesy  if  I 
now  felt  perfectly  well,  inquired  the  speed  of  the 
schooner,  my  opinion  of  her,  my  experiences  of  the 
Bay  of  Biscay  in  this  month  of  August,  and  inquired 
if  I  was  acquainted  with  the  coast  of  England,  and 
especially  with  that  part  comprised  between  St. 
Bees  Head  and  Morecambe  Bay.  His  friend  eagerly 
listened,  keeping  his  fiery  eyes  fastened  upon  my 
face,  and  whenever  I  had  occasion  to  say  more  than 
"yes"  or  "no,"  he  would  call  upon  Don  Christoval 
to  interpret. 

Shortly  after  the  tall  Don  had  ceased  his  ques- 
tions— and  I  found  no  expression  in  his  handsome 
face  and  in  the  steady  gaze  of  his  glowing  impas- 
sioned eyes  to  hint  to  me  whether  my  replies  satis- 
fied him  or  not — Captain  Dopping  came  up  out  of 
the  cabin. 

"Now,  Mr.  Portlack,"  said  he,  in  his  harsh, 
intemperate  voice,  yet  intending  nothing  but  civility, 
as  I  could  judge,  "  get  you  to  your  supper,  sir  ;  eat 


THE  PEOPLE  OP  LA  CASANDRA.  53 

hearty,  and  you  can  make  as  free  with  the  hquor  as 
your  common  sense  thinks  prudent." 

I  was  hungry,  having  tasted  no  food  since  the 
meal  of  beef  and  biscuit  whicli  liad  been  set  before 
me  when  I  was  first  brought  on  board ;  nevertheless 
I  entered  the  cabin  and  took  my  place  with  some 
diffidence.  I  felt  a  sort  of  embarrassment  in  eating 
alone  and  helping  myself — perhaps  because  of  the 
shore-going  appearance  of  the  interior  ;  it  was  like 
making  free  in  a  gentleman's  dining-room,  the  host 
being  absent.  Tom,  the  nigger  boy,  waited  upon  me. 
He  gave  me  a  dish  of  excellent  soup,  and  I  fared 
sumptuously  on  spiced  beef,  some  sort  of  dried  fish 
that  was  excellent  eating,  potatoes,  beans,  fruit,  and 
the  like.  The  fruit  was  fresh  enough  to  make  me 
understand  that  the  vessel  was  but  recently  from 
port.  There  were  several  kinds  of  wines  in  decant- 
ers upon  the  table ;  but  two  glasses  of  sherry  sufficed 
me,  though  two  such  glasses  of  sherry  I  had  never 
before  drank.  It  might  be  that  I  was  no  judge,  but 
to  my  palate  the  flavor  of  that  amber-colored  wine 
was  exquisite. 

The  negro  boy  stood  near  waiting  and  watching 
me  intently  in  the  intervals  of  his  business.  Had 
the  skylight  been  closed  I  should  have  put  some 
questions  to  hiui,  l)iit  tlic    regular   passage  of   the 


54      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

shadows  of  the  two  Spaniards  upon  the  glass  of  the 
skylight  as  they  walked  the  deck,  warned  me  to  be 
very  wary.  The  change,  not  indeed  from  an  open 
boat,  but  from  the  decks  and  the  cabin  of  the 
Ocean  Ranger  to  this  interior,  with  its  pictures, 
mirrors,  its  handsomely  equipped  and  most  hos- 
pitable table,  was  great  indeed,  and  as  I  looked 
about  me  I  found  it  difficult  to  realize  the  experi- 
ence I  was  passing  through.  I  could  now  tell  by  the 
weight  of  the  fork  and  spoon  which  I  handled  that 
the  plate  which  glittered  upon  the  white  damask 
cloth  was  solid  silver.  There  could  be  no  doubt 
whatever  that  the  furniture  of  a  drawing-room  or  of 
a  boudoir  had  gone  to  the  equipment  of  this  cabin. 
Nothing  seemed  to  fit,  nothing  had  that  air  of 
oceanic  fixity  which  you  look  for  in  sea-going 
decorations.  But  a  quality  of  tawdriness  stole  into 
the  general  appearance  through  contrast  of  the  gilt, 
the  looking  glasses,  the  pictures,  the  velvet,  with 
the  plain,  worn  sides  of  the  vessel,  the  rude  cabin 
beams,  and  the  gray  and  even  grimy  ceiling  or 
upper  deck.  I  asked  the  negro  boy  if  he  spoke 
English. 

"  Yes,  massa,"  said  he,  "  I  speak  English,  nuffin 
else,  tank  de  Lord." 

"  Were  you  shipped  at  Cadiz  ? " 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  LA  CASANDRA.      55 

«  Yes  sah." 

"  I  siTppose  tliey  found  you  cruising  about  on 
the  look-out  for  a  job." 

He  showed  his  teeth  and  smiled  broadly  and 
blandly,  in  silence  upturning  his  dusky  eyes  to  the 
skylight.  It  was  no  business  of  mine  to  question 
him,  but  I  thought  it  as  likely  as  not  that  he  had 
run  from  some  American  vessel,  for  it  was  hard  to 
imagine  that  a  lad  who  was  undoubtedly  a  Yankee 
negro,  and  who  I  might  fully  believe  was  without 
a  word  of  Spanish,  would  be  idling  in  Cadiz. 

I  was  about  to  go  on  deck  when  the  boy  said  to 
me,  "Do  yah  know  where  yaw've  to  sleep?" 

"  In  the  'tween  decks  I  understood,"  said  I. 

"  I'll  show  yah,  massa,  I'll  show  yah.  Dis  is  de 
road  to  your  bedroom,  sah,"  and,  somewhat  to  my 
surprise,  he  went  to  a  little  door  at  the  foremost 
end  of  the  cabin,  opened  it,  and  conducted  me  into 
a  part  of  the  schooner  that  was  almost  immediately 
under  the  main-hatch.  The  main-hatch  was  a  very 
wide  square,  and  the  cover  of  it  was  formed  of 
three  pieces,  one  portion  of  which  was  lifted  so 
that  light  and  air  penetrated ;  the  sun  was  still 
above  the  horizon,  and  I  could  see  plainly.  A  ham- 
mock had  been  swung  in  a  corner  on  the  starboard 
side  ;   it  was  to  be  my  bed,  and  there  was  no  other 


50       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

article  of  furniture ;  but  then  I  was  a  sailor,  very 
well  able  to  dispense  with  all  conveniences,  requiring 
nothing  but  a  bucket  of  fresh  brine  to  supply  the 
absence  of  a  wash-stand.  There  was  a  quantity  of 
rope,  some  bolts  of  canvas,  and  other  matters  of  that 
kind  stowed  away  down  here.  The  space,  hoM-ever, 
was  no  more  than  a  good  sized  cabin,  owing  to  the 
after  bulkhead  coming  well  forward  and  the  fore- 
castle bulkhead  standing  well  aft. 

Having  taken  a  brief  survey  of  my  quarters, 
heaving  as  I  did  so  a  melancholy  sigh  of  regret  over 
the  new  sea-chest,  the  quantity  of  wearing  apparel, 
the  nautical  instruments,  books  and  old  home 
memorials  wliich  the  Ocean  Ranwr  had  sailed 
away  with,  and  which  it  was  as  likely  as  not  I 
should  never  hear  of  again,  I  re-entered  the  cabin 
and  mounted  the  short  flight  of  companion  steps. 
Captain  Dopping  M^as  Avalking  with  the  two  Span- 
iards. I  went  a  little  way  forward  to  leeward,  and 
leaned  upon  the  rail,  looking  at  the  sea.  The 
breeze  was  soft  and  pleasant,  warm  Avith  the  long 
day  of  sunshine,  and  the  schooner  was  sliding  in 
buoyant  launchings  over  tlie  round  brows  of  the 
wide  heave  of  the  swell  which  in  the  far  dim  east 
swayed  in  folds  of  soft  deep  violet  to  the  tender 
magical  coloring  of  the  sliadow  of  the  coming  night 


THE  PEOPLE  OF  LA  CASANDRA.      57 

that  had  paused  in  the  heavens  there.  Four  of  the 
seamen  were  sitting  in  the  schooner's  liead,  watch- 
ing with  amused  hairy  countenances  the  face  of  the 
cook  Mariana,  who  grotesquely  gesticulated  and 
contorted  his  form  in  his  efforts  to  address  them  in 
English.  On  a  sudden  Captain  Dopping  crossed 
the  deck,  holding  a  handsome  cigar  case  filled, 

"Don  Christoval  wants  to  know  if  you  smoke?" 

said  he. 

I  took  a  cigar  and  lighted  it  at  the  stump  which 
Captain  Dopping  was  smoking,  and  perceiving  that 
Don  Christoval  observed  me,  I  raised  my  hat,  and 
made  him  a  low  bow,  which  he  returned  with  the 
majesty  of  a  grandee.  The  captain  resumed  his 
place  at  the  side  of  the  two  Spaniards,  and  I  smoked 
my  cigar  alone,  with  wonder  fast  increasing  upon 
me  as  I  looked  at  tlie  cigar^  and  tlien  reflected  upon 
the  entertainment  I  was  fresh  from,  and  recollected 
how  Captain  Dopping  had  pronounced  the  word 
'pay.  What  did  it  all  mean?  What  mystery  M-as 
signified,  what  proposals  presently  to  come  were 
indicated  by  this  handsome,  this  hospitable  recep- 
tion of  a  distressed  seaman — a  mere  second  mate  as 
I  was  or  had  been,  rendered  destitute  by  disaster — 
one  of  a  crowd  of  obscure  persons  without  preten- 
sions of  any  kind  or  soi-t  ?     Surely,  liad  I  l»een  a 


58       THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

nobleman,  a  man  in  the  highest  degree  important 
and  influential,  this  treatment  could  scarcely  have 
been  more  liberal  and  considerate. 

I  had  nearly  smoked  out  the  exceedingly  fine 
cigar  when  Captain  Dopping,  in  his  rasping  voice, 
cried  out  to  one  of  the  men — I  believe  it  was  to  the 
man  George  South — to  step  aft  and  take  charge  of 
the  deck  for  a  bit.  I  turned  my  head,  and  found 
that  the  two  Spaniards  had  gone  below.  Captain 
Dopping  beckoned  to  me,  but  the  gesture  was  not 
wanting  in  respect.  He  was  but  a  Deal  longshore 
man,  though  superior  to  the  ordinary  run  of  those 
fellows,  and  was  impressed  or,  at  all  events,  influ- 
enced by  my  holding  a  master's  certificate  and,  let 
me  say  it  without  vanity,  for  it  is  a  thing  to  concern 
me  but  little  after  all  these  years,  by  my  speech, 
manners,  and  appearance. 

"  You  are  wanted  inthe  cabin,"  said  he,  and  he 
led  the  way  below. 


CHAPTEK   III. 

DON    CHRISTOVAl/s    STORY. 

Don  Christoval  and  Don  Lazarillo  were  seated 
at  the  table  drinking  coffee ;  tlie  atmosphere  was 
charged  Avith  the  delicate  aroma  of  the  berry,  blend- 
ed with  the  perfume  of  choice  Cuba  tobacco.  The 
liourwas  somew^here  about  seven.  The  sunset  made 
the  little  space  of  heaven  that  showed  through  the 
skylight  resemble  a  square  of  gilt.  Spite,  however, 
of  there  being  some  half-hour  of  twilight  left,  the 
two  polished  and  gleaming  silver  cabin-lamps  were 
burning. 

"  Pray  sit,"  said  Don  Christoval.  "  I  want  to 
talk  to  you  on  an  affair  of  business." 

I  took  a  chair.  Captain  Dopping  seated  himself 
opposite  me.  Don  Lazarillo  watched  me  with  a 
fiery  gaze  of  excitement  and  expectation. 

"  I  will  tell  you  plainly  and  at  once,  Mr.  Port •• 
lack,"  said  Don  Christoval,  fastening  his  fine,  burn- 


60       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

ing,  liquid  eyes  npon  my  face,  "  what  the  object  of 

our  expedition   is.     In   a  word,  it  is  this :    I   am 

going  to  England  to  recover  my  wife,  who  has  been 

feloniously  stolen  from  me." 

He  paused  to  observe  the  effect  of  his  words. 

I   could    only   look    blankly,    for  there  M^as   reallv 

nothing  to  be  thought  so  far,  and  therefore  nothing 

to  be  said. 

"  You  will  have  suspected  that  our  excursion  was 

a  singular  one,"    said  he  smiHng,  Avith  a  note  of 

sweetness  threading  his  voice. 

"  I  confess,  sir,"   said  I,  "  tliat  I  supposed  this 

schooner  to  be  on  an  errand  which  miiflit  be  some- 

thing  a  little  out  of  the  way." 

"  Wliat  does  he  say  ? "  said  Don  Lazarillo  in 
Spanish.  Don  Christoval  patiently  translated  and 
then  resumed,  addressing  me  now  with  an  air  of 
melancholy  and  in  tones  curiously  plaintive.  "  It  is 
lit  that  my  story  should  be  told  to  you,  because  I 
shall  desire  your  willing  assistance.  That  story  is 
well  known  to  my  friend,  Captain  Dopping,  Avho 
did  not  engage  the  crew  until  he  had  made  them 
acquainted  with"  the  object  of  this  expedition. 
Captain  Noble  was  in  your  Eoyal  Navy,  but  he  no 
longer  serves.  My  mother,  who  I  may  tell  you  was 
an  English  woman,  was  distantly  related  to  Captain 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  61 

Noble  on  his  mother's  side.  I  met  tlie  captain  and 
his  daughter  Ida  in  Paris,  and,'*  said  he,  with  a 
graceful  flourish  of  his  hand,  "  I  fell  in  love  with 
the  young  lady.  Captain  ISToble's  wife  is  a  woman 
of  distinction.  She  is  Lady  Ida  Noble,  and  her 
father  is  an  earl.  She  did  not  favor  my  addresses, 
nay,"  said  he,  with  his  face  darkening — and  I  ob- 
served that  the  countenance  of  Don  Lazarillo,  who 
was  eying  him  steadfastly,  darkened  too  in  mani- 
fest sympathy  's\ath  his  friend's  mood — "  she  was 
rude ;  she  was  repellent ;  she  was  insulting.  She 
had  high  desires  for  her  child,  higher,"  he  cried, 
smiting  his  breast,  and  rearing  his  form,  and  look- 
ing at  his  friend,  "  than  Don  Christoval  del  Padron." 
He  gesticulated  again.  "  Enough  ! — the  lady,  pas- 
sionately adoring  me,  consented  to  elope.  I  had 
followed  them  to  Madrid,  and  from  Madrid  my 
charming  girl  and  I  fled  to  London,  where  we  were 
secretly  married.  The  father  tracked  us.  We 
were  man  and  wife  ere  he  discovered  us.  But,  two 
days  before  we  had  arranged  to  leave  England  for 
Cuba,  where  I  have  an  estate,  I  returned  to  the 
hotel  where  I  had  left  my  wife,  and  found  her  gone. 
I  made  inquiries,  and  gathered  from  the  description 
given  to  me  by  the  people  of  the  hotel  that  Captain 
Noble  and  his  son  had  called,  had  had  an  interview 


62       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

with  my  wife,  and  that  she  had  driven  away  with 
them  in  the  carriage  in  which  they  had  arrived.  I 
easily  guessed,"  he  continued,  speaking  plaintively, 
without  the  least  temper,  with  an  expression  of 
melancholy  that  wonderfully  heightened  the  beauty 
of  his  face,  "  that  she  had  been  made  the  victim  of 
some  cruel  stratagem.  I  knew  she  would  write  to 
me  when  the  chance  was  permitted  her,  and  week 
after  week  I  lingered  at  the  hotel,  believing  she 
would  address  me  there  or  return  to  me  there. 

"  A  month  passed,  and  then  I  received  a  letter. 
She  informed  me  that  her  father  and  brother  had 
called  and  implored  her  to  accompany  them  to  her 
mother,  who  lay  in  a  dying  state  at  a  hotel  in  Bond 
Street.  She  loved  her  mother,  and  her  tender 
heart  was  half  broken  by  this  afflicting  intelligence. 
ISTaturally,  she  made  haste  to  accompany  her  father 
and  brother  ;  but  it  was  a  base  lie,  Mr.  Portlack, 
an  inhuman  stratagem  !  They  conveyed  her,  not  to 
her  mother,  but,  valgamedios !  to  Captain  Noble's 
estate  in  Cumberland.  There  she  has  remained; 
there  she  still  is ;  but  her  deliverance  is  at  hand,  and 
she  awaits  me." 

"  A  regular  mean  and  cruel  business,  don't  you 
think,  Mr.  Portlack  ?  "  cried  Captain  Dopping, 
drairsina:  at  his  scarlet  whiskers. 


DON   CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  63 

"  Does  'ee  understand  ? "  exclaimed  Don  La- 
zarillo. 

"  Perfectly,"  I  answered.  "  It  would  be  strange 
if  I  could  not  understand  your  pure  English,  sir," 
addressing  Don  Christoval. 

"  What  we  want  to  know  is "  began  Captain 

Dopping. 

"  Patience,"  interrupted  Don  Christoval,  elevat- 
ing his  hand.  "  It  is  probable,"  he  continued,  turn- 
ing to  me,  "  that  we  may  have  to  employ  force.  I 
hope  not,  but  we  are  prepared,"  he  added,  with  a 
flash  in  his  eyes.  "  The  lady  is  my  wife  :  you  will 
allow  that  I  have  a  right  to  her  ? " 

"  Undoubtedly,"  said  I. 

"  The  marriage  Avas  in  all  senses  lawful.  I  can 
produce  the  necessary  documentary  evidence.  I  can 
produce  my  dear  one's  letter  in  which  she  com- 
municates to  me  the  perfidious  conduct  of  her 
father.  You  Mall  own  that  I  have  a  greater  right 
to  my  -wiie  than  her  father  has  to  his  daughter." 

"  You  will  own  that  ? "  rasped  out  Captain  Dop- 
ping. "  The  law  sets  the  husband  first.  He's  afore 
all  hands." 

"  That  is  so ;  that  need  not  be  reasoned,"  said  I. 

"  Will  you,"  said  Don  Christoval,  "  agree  to  as- 
sist me  in  obtaining  possession  of  my  wife  ? " 


64       THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

Don  Lazarillo  ap^Deared  to  understand  this  ques- 
tion. He  eyed  me  sternly  and  with  inexpressible 
eagerness. 

"  Sir,"  said  I,  ''  you  have  saved  my  life  and  you 
have  been  very  good  to  me.  I  should  msh  to  be  of 
service  to  you,  though  for  no  other  reason  than  to 
prove  my  gratitude.  But,  sir,  it  would  enable  me 
to  answer  you,  to  learn  the  steps  that  are  to  be 
taken  to  recover  the  lady." 

"  That  is  easily  done,"  exclaimed  Don  Christo- 
val,  with  a  sweep  of  his  hand  that  made  a  single 
diamond  upon  his  finger  stream  in  an  arc  of  white 
fire  under  the  lamps.  "  Captain  Noble's  house  is 
called  Trafalgar  Lodge.  It  is  a  house  that  stands 
amid  grounds.  It  is  situated  on  the  coast  of  Cum- 
berland, to  the  south  of  St.  Bees  Head.  A  walk  to 
it  from  the  shore  occupies  less  than  half  an  hour,  so 
close  is  it  to  the  sea.  The  cliffs  are  high,  but  there 
is  a  little  bay  that  has  a  margin  of  sand  which  even 
at  high  water  gives  plenty  of  foothold  for  landing 
from  a  boat.  Into  this  bay  between  the  chffs  comes 
sloping  a — I  forget  the  name  in  English." 

"  A  gap,  Don  Christoval  ?  ''  said  Captain  Dop- 
ping. 

"  That  is  it — that  is  it.  You  walk  up  this  gap 
into  the  country  and  then  the  house  is  not  far  off. 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  65 

There   is  a  little   town   about   four   miles   distant 

inland — it  is  what  you  would  call  the  nearest  post- 

towii  to  Trafalgar  Lodge,     It  is  a  silent  range  of 

cliff — there  are  no  guards  of   the   coast.     I   have 

inquired,   and   there   are   no   guards  of   the   coast 

along  that  cliff.     Well,  when  we  arrive  we  keep 

what  Captain  Dopping  calls  a  wide  offing  until  the 

darkness  of  the  night  comes.     We  shall  be  guided 

by  the  weather  :  if  it  is  fine  we  act,  if  it  is  stormy 

we  keep  at  sea  and  M'ait.      But   suppose   it   fine. 

Good !     We  launch  the  boat.     Myself,  my   friend 

here,  Don  Lazarillo  de  Tonnes,  Captain  Dopping, 

and  five  seamen  enter  her  and  we  land      The  rest 

is  our  affair.     There  must  not  be  miscarriage ;  this 

voyage  is  costly."     He  glanced  as  he  spoke  at  Don 

Lazarillo.     "  And  we  must  go  ashore  in  such  force 

as  to  assure  myself   of  getting   possession  of  my 

wife,  let  Captain  Noble  and  his  son  and  his  men 

servants  and  any  gentlemen  guests   who   may   be 

sleeping  in  his  house — let  them,  I  say,  oppose  us 

as  they   will.     But " — he   held   up   his   forefinger 

with  a  smile  that  made  his  teeth  glance  like  light 

under  his  heavy  black  mustache — "  what  meantime 

is  to  become  of  this  schooner  ?     Do  you  see  ?     The 

men  we  have  we  must  take  ashore,  saving  Mariana 

and  Tom." 
5 


66      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  The  long  and  short  of  it  is,  Mr.  Portlack," 
here  broke  in  Captain  Dopping,  with  a  note  of 
impatience  hardening  yet  his  harsh  utterance, 
"  there  wasn't  time  to  ship  more  hands  in  Cadiz. 
Don  Christoval  had  received  news  that  if  he  wanted 
to  get  possession  of  his  lady  he  must  bear  a  hand, 
for  she  stands  to  be  carried  abroad  by  her  father, 
and  that  'ud  signify  a  constant  shifting  of  places. 
We  wanted  more  men,  and  Don  Christoval  wonld 
have  no  sailors  but  Englishmen.  I  scraped  together 
the  best  I  could  collect  in  a  hurry,  but  our  company 
was  too  few  by  one  or  two  for  this  here  job. 
There's  a  house  to  be  surrounded,  d'ye  see  ;  there's 
a  chance  of  one  or  more  of  us  being  hurt  in  the 
melhee  that's  likely  as  not  to  happen,  and  then 
again  a  man  must  be  left  in  charge  of  the  boat." 

Don  Christoval  listened  with  patience,  watching 
me ;  Don  Lazarillo,  in  a  fiery  whisper,  asked  his 
friend  to  translate.  This  was  done,  and  a  short 
pause  ensued. 

"  What  you  wish  me  to  do,"  said  I,  "  is  to  take 
charge  of  the  schooner  while  you  and  the  crew  are 
ashore  ? " 

"  That  is  it,"  cried  Don  Christoval. 

"With  me  you  leave  Mariana  and  the  negro 
boy  ? " 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  67 

"  So." 

"  A  slender  ship's  company  if  it  should  come  on 
to  blow  on  a  sudden,"  said  I,  smiling. 

"  "We  shall  leave  the  vessel  snug,"  said  Captain 
Dopping,  "  and  we  don't  reckon  upon  being  more 
than  three  hours  gone.  Besides,  we  shall  be  guided 
by  the  looks  of  the  weather.  It's  still  summer 
time,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  You  see,  Mr.  Portlack,"  said  Don  Christoval, 
leaning  back  in  his  chair  and  infusing  a  peculiar 
note  of  sweetness  into  his  voice,  "  you  are  a  naviga- 
tor and  my  friend  Captain  Dopping  is  a  navigator. 
It  would  be  rash  for  both  navigators  to  go  ashore. 
Suppose  an  accident  should  befall  Captain  Dopping 
— how  should  we  reach  Cuba :  nay,  how  should  we 
reach  a  near  safe  port?  There  is  no  navigation 
among  us  saving  what  you  and  he  have." 

"  I  understand,  sir.  I  also  gather  that  when  you 
have  regained  the  lady  you  proceed  forthwith  to 
the  island  of  Cuba  ?  " 

"  To  my  estate  there,"  he  answered. 

"You'll  be  able  to  see  your  way  through  this 
job  ? "  exclaimed  Captain  Dopping.  "  The  law's  at 
the  back  of  us.  A  man  has  a  right  to  his  own. 
There's  no  lawyer  agoing  to  gainsay  that,  you  know. 
If  you  steal  my  watch  and  refuse  to  hand  it  over, 


68      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

there's  no  law  to  hinder  me  from  coaxing  you  into 
my  view  of  the  business  with  a  loaded,  pistol." 

"  Explain,  in  the  name  of  the  Virgin,"  hissed 
Don  Lazarillo,  in  Spanish,  for  these  words  I  could 
understand,  and  such  was  his  excitement  and  impa- 
tience that  the  rings  upon  his  trembling  hands 
danced  in  flashes  like  rippKng  water  under  a  light. 

Don  Christoval  interpreted,  on  which  the  other 
bestowed  several  approving  nods  upon  Captain 
Dopping 

"  But  I  have  not  yet  spoken,"  said  Don  Chris- 
toval, "  of  any  reward  for  your  services.  I  here  offer 
you  fifty  guineas,  which  shall  be  paid  to  you  on  our 
arrival  in  Cuba." 

"  Do  you  assent,  Seiior,  do  you  assent  ? "  whipped 
out  Don  Lazarillo,  who  now  and  again  would  catch 
the  meaning  of  what  was  said. 

The  offer  was  a  tempting  one.  It  was  made  to 
a  man  rendered  bankrupt  by  disaster.  The  money 
would  go  far  to  supply  my  loss ;  then  again,  my  im- 
mediate business  when  I  reached  a  port,  no  matter 
where  it  might  be  situated,  must  be  to  find  a  berth, 
and  here  was  one  prepared  for  me,  easily  and  com- 
fortably to  be  filled  by  me.  Moreover,  I  was  but  a 
young  man,  and  there  were  such  elements  of  wild  and 
startling  romance   in   this    Spaniard's   proposal  as 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  69 

could  not  fail  to  eloquently  appeal  to  my  love  of  ad- 
venture and  to  my  delight  in  everything  new  and 
stirring.  It  was  not  for  me  to  too  curiously  inquire 
into  the  sincerity  of  Don  Christoval's  story.  Cap- 
tain Popping  believed  it ;  the  five  seamen  believed 
it ;  and  what  was  there  for  me  to  ground  suspicion 
upon  ? 

I  paused  but  a  minute  and  then  said,  "  I  accept, 


•       ''5 

sir. 


"  Good  !  "  cried  Don  Christoval,  with  enthusiasm. 

He  went  to  a  locker,  and  took  from  it  a  small, 
richly-inlaid  box  or  desk,  which  he  placed  upon  the 
table;  then  on  a  sheet  of  gilt-edged  paper,  in  the 
corner  of  which  was  stamped  or  embossed  in  colors 
a  nosegay  of  flowers,  with  a  legend  in  Latin  upon  a 
scroll  beneath  it,  he  wrote  as  follows : 

"  La  Casanch^a,  at  Sea, 

"  August  9,  1838. 

"/,  Don  Christoval  del  Padron,  hereby  under- 
take to  pay  to  Mr.  James  Portlach,  acting  as  first 
mate  of  this  schooner .^  the  sutn  of  fifty -tioo  pounds 
ten  shillings  sterling  on  the  vessel's  arrival  at  Cicha.^^ 

He  affixed  his  signature,  and  the  document  was 
further  signed  by  Don  Lazarillo  and  Captain  Dop- 
ping  as  witnesses. 


70       THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  This  is  the  form  of  ray  agreement  with  Cap- 
tain Dopping  and  with  the  sailors,"  said  Don  Chris- 
toval,  handing  me  the  paper.  "  I  trust  it  satisiies 
you ; "  and  he  gave  me  one  of  his  noble  grandee 
bows. 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,  and  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  it.  I 
suppose  the  crew  will  be  discharged  on  the  vessel's 
arrival  at  Cuba  ? " 

"  Ay  !  "  exclaimed  Captain  Dopping. 

"  I  have  but  one  more  question  to  ask.  Is  your 
Cuban  port  fixed  upon  ?  " 

"  Matanzas  will  not  be  far  off,"  replied  Don 
Christoval. 

Matanzas  I  knew  to  be  near  Havana ;  and  at 
Havana,  whose  harbor  in  those  days  was  populous 
with  ships,  I  felt  I  should  have  no  difficulty  in  ob- 
taining a  berth  and  so  making  my  way  home. 

I  rose,  bowed,  and  went  on  deck. 

The  sun  was  gone  ;  the  night  had  fallen  ;  it  was 
hard  upon  eight  o'clock.  The  wind  had  slightly 
freshened,  and  the  schooner  was  slipping  nimbly 
but  quietly  over  the  dark  surface  of  the  waters. 
There  was  a  slip  of  young  moon  in  the  south-west, 
by  which  sign  I  might  know  that,  if  we  made  good 
progress,  there  would  be  moonlight  for  the  wild 
midnight  adventure  we  were  embarked  on.     There 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  ^1 

was  a  growling  murmur  of  sailors'  voices  forward 
in  the  gloom  ;  aft,  sliding  up  and  down  against  the 
brilliant  dust  of  stars  over  the  stern,  was  the  lonely- 
shadow  of  the  helmsman  gripping  the  tiller ;  the 
seaman  who  had  been  commissioned  to  keep  a  look- 
out trudged  in  the  gangway.  My  watch  on  deck 
would  come  round  at  eight  o'clock,  that  is  to  say,  in 
a  few  minutes.  I  leaned  against  the  rail  to  think, 
but  my  reverie  was  almost  immediately  broken  in 
upon  by  Captain  Dopping.  He  approached  me 
close,  and  peered  to  make  sure  of  me,  and  said  : 

"  Well,  now  you  are  one  of  us,  what  think  ye  of 
the  job?" 

"  I  have  not  yet  had  time  to  think,"  said  I. 

"  It  is  good  pay,"  said  he,  "  and  no  risk  to  you 
either.  You're  on  the  right  side  of  the  door  any- 
way. There's  bound  to  be  a  scrimmage.  The  house 
is  an  old,  strong  building,  there  are  gates  to  pass,  and 
we  must  look  to  be  fired  upon." 

"  That  you  must  expect,"  said  I.  "  But  you  are 
numerous  enough — seven  powerful  men,  not  count- 
ing the  eighth,  whom  you  leave  to  tend  the  boat. 
You  will  go  ashore  armed,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  You  do  not  doubt  that  it  is  a  genuine  busi- 
ness ? "  said  I. 


72       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

"No,  no,"  he  answered  in  his  file-like  tones; 
"  it's  genuine  enough.     What  d'ye  suspect  ? " 

"  Why,  do  you  see,  an  errand  of  this  sort,  Cap- 
tain Dopping,"  said  I,  hushing  my  voice,  "  might 
signify  anything  else  than  the  recovery  of  a  Spanish 
gentleman's  wife." 

"  So  it  might,"  he  answered  ;  "  but  in  our  case  it 
don't  happen  to.  You'll  be  satisfied  when  you  see 
the  lady  brought  aboard." 

"  Who  is  Don  Lazarillo  ? "  said  I. 

"  A  bosom-friend  of  Don  Christoval's.  I  look 
to  him  more  than  to  the  other  for  my  money. 
Plenty  he  has  ;  ye  may  guess  that  by  his  hands." 

"  But  my  agreement  is  with  Don  Christo- 
val." 

"  He'll  pay  ye — he'll  pay  ye." 

"  How  did  you  meet  him  ?  " 

"  I  heard  that  he  was  making  inquiries  for  a 
master  to  take  charge  of  this  schooner.  I  was  pilot- 
ing a  Spaniard  to  the  Thames  when  she  was  run 
into,  and  they  sent  for  me  to  Cadiz ;  and  I  had 
finished  my  business,  and  was  thinking  of  getting 
home  again,  when  this  job  fell  in  my  way." 

Pulling  out  his  watch,  he  stepped  so  as  to  bring 
the  dial  plate  into  the  sheen  round  about  the  sky- 
light, then  calling  out  that  it  was  eight  bells,  and 


DON   CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  Y3 

that  the  course  of  the  vessel  was  the  course  to  be 
steered,  he  vanished. 

The  Spaniards  arrived  on  deck  to  smoke,  and 
they  walked  up  and  down,  constantly  talking  very 
earnestly  in  Spanish.  But  they  never  offered  to  ac- 
cost me  until  they  went  below,  at  about  half-past 
nine,  when  they  both  wished  me  good  night,  after 
Don  Christoval  had  addressed  a  few  words  to  me 
about  the  weather  and  the  time  we  were  likely  to 
occupy  in  our  run  to  the  Cumberland  coast.  But 
though  they  went  below,  they  did  not  go  to  bed. 
The  negro  boy  placed  fruit,  wine,  and  biscuit  upon 
the  table,  and  the  two  Dons  went  to  cards,  each  of 
them  smoking  a  long  cigar.  There  was  something 
dream-like  to  me  in  the  sight  of  them,  along  with 
the  fancies  begotten  by  the  strange  situation  I  now 
found  myself  in.  It  was  like  taking  a  peep  into  a 
camera  obscura  to  glance  through  the  skylight  at 
the  picture  which  it  framed.  Don  Christoval 
looked  a  noble,  handsome  creature  Indeed,  in  the 
irradiation  of  the  soft  oil  flames  of  the  sparkling 
silver  lamps.  His  smiles  played  like  a  light  upon 
his  face,  so  white  were  his  teeth,  so  luminous  the 
glow  of  his  dark  eyes  at  every  festal  sally  of  his 
own  or  his  friend.  "Was  his  tale  to  be  doubted  ? 
Surely  he  was  a  sort  of  man  to  inspire  a  most  ro- 


74      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

mantic  passion  in  a  woman ;  and,  given  that  pas- 
sion, all  that  he  had  related  was  perfectly  credible 
and  consistent. 

Likely  as  not,  Don  Lazarillo  was  finding  the 
money  for  this  adventure.  Captain  Dopping  had 
said  so,  and,  indeed,  one  had  only  to  think  of  the 
schooner's  equipment,  and  to  peer  down  into  that 
gleaming  interior,  to  guess  that  the  cost  of  this 
amazing  quest  must  heavily  tax  even  a  very  long 
purse.  Don  Christoval  had  talked  of  his  estate  in 
Cuba ;  he  might  be  a  poor  man,  nevertheless ;  his 
poverty,  indeed,  might  have  proved  one  of  the  ob- 
jections which  Captain  ISToble  and  his  wife  had 
found  unconquerable,  though  their  daughter  had 
thought  otherwise.  It  was  quite  conceivable  then 
that  Don  Lazarillo,  being  an  intimate  friend  of 
Don  Christoval,  should  be  helping  him  by  his 
purse,  his  sympathy,  and  his  association. 

But  speculations  of  this  sort  were  not  very 
profitable.  I  had  myself  to  consider,  and  it  recon- 
ciled me,  I  must  own,  to  the  adventure  to  reflect 
that  the  part  I  was  expected  to  play  in  it  was  a  pas- 
sive one.  The  law  of  England  in  those  times  was 
not  what  it  now  is.  Men  were  hanged  for  offenses 
which  are  now  visited  by  short  periods  of  impris- 
onment.    If  I  was  being  betrayed  into  a  felonious 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  75 

confederacy,  I  might  hope  to  be  safe  in  the  plea  of 
ignorance,  and  in  the  excuse  of  having  taken  no  act- 
ive share  in  what  might  happen.  Another  consid- 
eration :  suppose  I  had  decHned  Don  Christoval's 
proposal,  how  should  I  have  been  served  ?  I  could 
not  imagine  they  would  speak  a  passing  ship  to 
transfer  me  to  her.  They  were  in  a  hurry,  and 
not  likely,  therefore,  to  delay  the  run  to  the  Cum- 
berland coast  by  entering  a  port  to  set  me  ashore. 
So  I  must  have  remained  on  board  in  any  case,  and 
being  on  board,  assuming  the  act  they  were  intent 
on  an  illegal  one,  I  should  have  been  as  much  or  as 
little  incriminated  as  I  now  might  be  by  agreeing  to 
serve  as  mate  in  the  vessel. 

For  eight  days,  dating  from  the  morning  of  my 
rescue,  nothing  of  sufficient  interest  happened  to 
demand  that  this  story  should  stand  still  while  I  tell 
it.  We  had  extraordinarily  fine  weather;  never 
once  did  the  breeze  head  us  so  as  to  divert  the 
schooner  by  as  much  as  half  a  point  from  her 
course.  Twice  it  blew  fresh  enough  to  single  reef 
our  canvas  for  us,  but  the  breeze  was  a  fair  wind ; 
it  filled  the  sky  with  flying  shapes  of  white  vapor, 
but  it  left  the  sun  shining  brilliantly  in  the  clear 
blue  hollows  between,  and  on  these  occasions  it  was 
that  La  Casandra  showed  her  sailing  qualities ;  for 


^(^  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

during  thirteen  hours  the  log  regularly  returned  her 
speed  as  at  something  over  twelve  and  a  half  knots 
in  the  hour.  She  heaped  the  foam  to  her  stem 
head,  and  flashed  it  in  dazzling  clouds  from  her 
bows,  and  the  race  of  it  spread  away  astern  like  the 
boiling  yeast  from  the  beat  of  the  wheels  of  a  pad- 
dle-steamer, with  a  sparkling  hill  of  sea  steadfast  on 
either  quarter,  and  over  those  fixed  curves  of  brine 
the  froth  swept  like  lace  endlessly  unrolling, 

I  punctually  took  sights  every  day  with  Captain 
Dopping,  and  every  day,  therefore,  knew  the  exact 
position  of  the  schooner  at  noon.  The  point  of 
coast  we  were  making  for  lay  a  few  miles  to  the 
south  of  St.  Bees  Head.  I  reckoned  that  we  should 
be  off  it  by  about  the  18th.  As  the  days  passed,  in- 
deed I  may  say  as  the  hours  passed,  the  Spaniards 
grew  visibly  more  anxious.  Their  laughter  was  in- 
frequent, their  conversation  earnest  and  often  agi- 
tated, as  I  might  reasonably  suppose  by  the  tones  of 
their  voices  and  by  their  demeanor ;  they  came  and 
went  restlessly,  one  or  the  other  of  them  often  ap- 
pearing on  deck  in  the  night  watches,  and  they 
never  sat  long  at  table. 

But  their  behavior  was  perfectly  consistent,  en 
tirely  natural,  such  as  was  to  have  been  expected  in 
men  who  had  embarked  on  a  wild  romantic  advent- 


DON   CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  77 

ure,  heavily  laden  with  possibilities  of  tragedy. 
They  had  very  little  to  say  to  me,  nor  were  their 
conversations  with  Captain  Dopping  as  frequent  as 
before.  They  kept  much  together,  walking  arm  in 
arm,  Don  Christoval  grave  to  austerity,  Don  Laza- 
rillo  energetic  in  gesticulation,  often  pausing  to 
withdraw  his  arm  to  smite  his  hands  with  vicious 
emphasis  of  what  he  might  be  saying,  and  all  their 
talk,  as  I  might  imagine,  was  wholly  about  the  prob- 
able issue  of  this  attempt  to  obtain  possession  of 
Senora  del  Padron, 

I  had  many  opportunities  of  speaking  to  the 
seamen.  I  warily  questioned  them,  and  one  or  two 
appeared  convinced  that  the  object  of  this  expedi- 
tion was  as  had  been  represented  to  them,  while  the 
others  owned  that  though  they  did  not  doubt  Don 
Christoval's  story,  it  might  not  be  exactly  as  he  had 
put  it,  either. 

"  But  what  does  it  signify  ? "  a  man  named 
Scott  said  to  me  in  one  middle- watch  while  I  con- 
versed with  him  as  he  stood  at  the  helm.  "  If 
when  we  gets  ashore  and  we  find  out  that  the  job's 
different  from  what  we've  been  made  to  believe  it, 
why,  sir,  here  stands  one,"  said  he,  thumping  his 
breast,  "  who'll  find  it  easy  enough  to  say  '  No '  if 
he  means  '  No.'     There's  no  blazing  furriner  in  all 


78      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

Europe,  let  alone  a  Spaniard,  as  is  good  enough  for 
an  Englishman  to  get  into  a  mess  for.  This  here 
Don  says  he  wants  his  wife,  and  I  suppose  his 
money's  as  good  as  any  other  man's.  Well,  we're 
willing  for  to  help  him  to  get  his  wife,  and  as  his 
tarms  are  handsome  we're  quite  agreeable  to  a  l)it 
of  a  shindy  when  it  comes  to  our  marching  up  to 
the  house  and  asking  that  the  gent's  lawful  wife 
should  be  restored  to  him.  But  if  it  ain't  that," 
said  he,  squirting  a  mouthful  of  tobacco  juice  over 
the  stern,  "  if  it's  to  be  something  that  we  haven't 
agreed  for,  some  job  as  might  end  in  a  prison  hulk 
and  a  free  passage  to  Australia,  here  stands  one," 
he  repeated,  striking  himself  afresh,  "  as  '11  find  it 
easy  to  say  '  No,'  if  so  be  as  '  ISTo  '  is  the  meaning 
that's  in  his  mind." 

This,  as  I  collected  from  the  short  chats  I  held 
with  others  of  the  men,  fairly  represented  the  senti- 
ments of  the  schooner's  forecastle  on  the  subject  of 
our  expedition. 

We  had  hauled  on  a  course  a  trifle  more  west- 
erly than  was  necessary  to  secure  ourselves  a  wide 
offing,  and  then,  somewhere  about  one  o'clock  on 
the  afternoon  of  the  18th,  we  shifted  our  helm  and 
headed  the  yacht  east-north-east.  All  hands  were 
on  deck  on  the  look-out  for  the  land,  the  pale  blue 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORy.  79 

loom  of  which  might  now  at  any  moment  be 
visible  on  the  sea-line.  The  wind  was  about  south, 
the  day  clear,  hot  and  tranquil ;  there  was  a  terrace 
of  swollen  white  vapor  down  in  the  west,  with  a 
look  of  thunder  in  the  knitted  texture  of  the  brows 
of  the  stuff,  but  the  mercury  in  the  barometer  stood 
high,  and  I  could  find  nothing  to  disquiet  me  in  tlie 
appearance  of  the  English  heavens,  tessellated  here 
and  there  with  spaces  of  high-poised,  delicate  cloud 
that  gleamed  with  divers  hues  like  the  pearly  inside 
of  a  mussel-shell. 

Lunch  had  been  served  on  deck  to  the  two 
Spaniards.  I  noticed  a  change  in  Don  Christoval ; 
his  face  had  hardened,  there  was  an  air  of  sneering 
temper  in  his  rare  smile  that  reduced  it  to  little 
more  than  a  mirthless  grin,  and  often  a  vindictive 
look  in  his  eyes  as  he  would  stand  staring  ahead 
at  the  sea,  swaying  his  noble  figure  to  the  heave  of 
the  deck.  His  manner,  indeed,  suggested  itself  as 
that  of  one  who  seeks  for  courage  in  temper,  for 
resolution  in  the  evocation  of  hot  thoughts.  Don 
Lazarillo  was  pale  as  though  oppressed  with  nausea. 
He  constantly  raised  his  hat  to  press  a  large  silk 
pocket-handkerchief  to  his  brow.  When  I  glanced 
at  him  I'd  wonder  whether,  when  the  hour  came,  he 
would  be  among  those  who  entered  the  boat. 


80      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

A  small  brig,  a  collier,  with  dingy  ill-fitting 
canvas,  her  yards  braced  sharp  up,  passed  under 
our  stern  near  enough  to  hail  us,  but  we  took  no 
notice  of  the  old  fellow  who  stood  flourishing  his 
hand  upon  the  rail ;  whereupon  to  mark  his  disgust 
he  flung  his  tall,  weather-worn  hat  down  on  to  the 
deck,  and  shook  his  fist  at  us  with  a  shout  whose 
meaning  did  not  catch  my  ear,  though  a  laugh  arose 
among  the  men  forward.  The  cook  Mariana 
showed  himself  very  agitated.  He  was  constantly 
in  and  out  of  his  galley,  running  into  the  schooner's 
head  to  stare,  then  darting  back  afresh  to  his  pots 
and  pans,  one  moment  popping  his  hideous  face  out 
from  the  door  to  starboard,  then  thrusting  it 
through  the  door  to  port,  making  one  think  of 
those  little  toy  monsters  which  spring  out  of  a  box 
when  you  free  the  lid. 

At  four  o'clock  the  land  was  in  sight.  The 
giant  St.  Bees  Head  dimly  shaded  the  sea-line  in 
the  north-east,  and  thence  the  shore  stretched  in  a 
blue  film  to  the  south,  djnng  out  in  the  azure  atmos- 
phere. Don  Christoval  leaned  over  the  rail  view- 
ing the  land  with  a  face  darkened  by  an  immovable 
frown,  the  scowling  air  of  which  gave  a  malevolent 
expression  to  his  eyes.  He  stood  rooted — motion- 
less— his  hand  with  a  paper  cigar  between  his  fin- 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  81 

gers,  half  raised  to  his  mouth,  as  though  the  whole 
form  of  him  had  been  withered  by  a  blast  of  light- 
ning. 

"  How  close  do  you  mean  to  sail,  Capitan  ? " 
cried  Don  Lazarillo,  sputtering  out  his  words  bro- 
kenly, vnth  such  an  accent  as  could  not  possibly 
be  imitated  in  print.  "  We  shall  be  seen  ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, with  his  face  working  with  agitation. 

"No  fear  of  our  being  seen  at  this  distance, 
Don  Lazarillo,"  answered  Captain  Dopping.  "  A 
four  mile  offing  is  all  we  want  till  nightfall,  and 
that  there  land  is  three  times  that  distance  off." 

Don  Lazarillo  asked  Don  Christoval  to  explain, 
but  the  tall  Spaniard  continued  to  stand  as  though 
in  a  trance. 

An  hour  passed,  all  remained  quiet  aboard  the 
schooner.  The  light  wind  fanned  the  clipper  keel 
of  the  craft  forward,  and  by  the  expiration  of  the 
hour  the  land  was  hard,  firm,  and  defined,  but  with 
no  feature  of  spur,  chasm,  or  ravine  visible  as  yet 
to  the  naked  eye.  Sail  was  shortened  to  the  extent 
of  the  topsail  being  furled,  a  jib  hauled  down,  and 
the  gaff-topsail  taken  in. 

"  Best  see,  while  there's  plenty  of  time  and  day- 
light," said  Captain  Dopping  to  me,  "  that  the 
boat's  all  ready  for  launching,"  and  then  addressing 


82      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

Don  Christoval,  lie  exclaimed,  "  Shall  we  get  the 
arms-chest  up,  sir,  and  the  weapons  served  out  ? 
It  may  come  on  a  dark  night,"  he  added,  sending  a 
look  at  the  terrace  of  cloud  in  the  west,  "and  it 
won't  do  to  mess  about  with  lanterns." 

"  Do  whatever  you  think  proper,"  whipped  out 
Don  Christoval  in  accents  fierce  with  excitement, 
though  by  his  stern,  hard,  and  frowning  face  it 
would  have  been  impossible  to  guess  his  agita- 
tion. 

I  superintended  the  clearing  away  of  the  boat, 
and  saw  that  everything  was  in  readiness  for  launch- 
ing her.  This  was  to  be  done  smack  fashion — that 
is  to  say,  by  running  her  through  the  gangway  over 
the  side.  Meanwhile  a  couple  of  seamen  brought 
up  a  large  square  black  box.  Captain  Doppiug 
opened  it,  and  disclosed  a  number  of  cutlasses  and 
heavy  pistols  of  the  old-fashioned  type.  He  called 
to  the  seamen  and  handed  them  each  a  pistol  and  a 
cutlass.  I  watched  their  faces  as  they  received 
them.  They  all  of  them  handled  the  weapons  as 
objects  strange  to  their  grasp,  with  awkward  grins 
running  over  their  countenances  as  they  poised  the 
firearms  in  their  brawny  fists  or  drew  the  cutlasses 
to  examine  their  blades. 

"  I  hope,"  said  the  man  Andrew  Trapp,  "  that 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  83 

it   ain't  going  to   come  to  our  using   tliese  here 
tools  ? " 

"  The  lady's  to  be  got  possession  of,"  said  Cap- 
tain Popping,  "  without  spilling  blood  if  it  can  be 
managed  ;  but  to  be  got,  anyhow." 

"  That's  right  enough,"  said  the  sailor   named 
South,  "  but  all  the  same,"  said  he,  leveling  the  pis- 
tol he  held,  "  if  so  be  as  1  am  to  fire  this  here  con- 
sarn,  I  choose  that  it  shouldn't  be  at  a  fellow  coun 
try  man." 

"  Mind  dat  pistole,"  cried  Don  Lazarillo,  recoil- 
ing a  step. 

"  I  take  it,"  said  the  seaman  named  William 
Scott,  gazing  earnestly  at  the  cutlass  in  his  hand, 
"  that  these  weapons  are  meant  more  to  what  they 
calls  overawe  the  people  in  the  house  we're  to  sur- 
round than  to  be  used  agin  'em." 

"  We  may  have  to  exert  force,"  said  Don  Cliris- 
toval,  who  stood  near  listening ;  "  if  our  lives  are 
threatened  we  must  be  in  a  position  to  protect 
ourselves.  Is  not  this  as  you  would  wish, 
men  ? " 

There  was  a  general  murmur  of  assent. 

"  I  claim  my  right — no  more  !  "  the  tall  Span- 
iard cried,  with  an  impassioned  gesture  of  his  arm ; 
"  you  will  help  me  to  assert  my  right  ?     I  trust  no 


84      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

blood  may  be  shed — if  blood  is  shed  it  will  not  be 
our  fault." 

"  That  puts  it  correctly,  I  thinlc,  lads  ? "  ex- 
claimed Captain  Dopping^  in  his  harshest  voice  and 
with  his  most  thrusting  manner. 

The  sailors  holding  their  weapons  went  for- 
ward. "Were  they  to  be  trusted  at  a  pinch,  I  won- 
dered ?  Assuredly  they  were  not  to  be  trusted  in 
any  sense  if  the  business  they  were  about  to  enter 
upon  should  prove  in  the  smallest  degree  different 
from  the  object  of  the  expedition  as  represented  by 
Don  Christoval. 

"We  continued  to  stand  in  for  the  land  under 
small  canvas,  which,  however,  there  was  no  further 
occasion  to  reduce,  for  as  the  sun  sank  the  wind 
fined  down,  and  at  seven  o'clock  the  breeze  had 
scarce  weight  enough  to  hold  our  sails  steady.  The 
sun  was  astern  of  us,  and  his  light  streamed  full 
upon  the  coast,  which  glowed  red  as  copper  in  that 
atmosphere  upon  the  dark  blue  of  the  water  brim- 
ming to  its  base  and  against  the  violet  of  the  east- 
ern sky.  When  the  little  collier  brig  which  had 
spoken  us  sank  her  topmost  cloths  past  the  rim  of 
the  ocean,  the  sea  line  ran  flawless  from  St.  Bees 
Head  right  away  round  to  the  point  where  the  land 
melted  out.     It  was  hard  to  credit  that  we  were  in 


DON   CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  85 

home  waters,  so  deserted  was  that  wide  surface. 
The  schooner  might,  indeed,  have  been  softly  rip- 
phng  through  the  heart  of  some  Pacific  sohtude. 

With  the  aid  of  a  powerful  telescope,  lianded 
to  me  by  Don  Christoval,  I  could  distinctly  make 
out  the  bay  where  the  boat  was  to  go  ashore,  and 
the  dark  scar  of  gap  or  ra^ane  vanishing  in  the  land 
beyond.  I  had  never  before  been  off  this  coast, 
and  ran  the  glass  along  the  line  of  it,  but  I  could 
see  no  houses,  no  habitation  of  any  sort ;  it  was 
sheer  rugged  cliff,  whose  character  of  forbidding 
desolation  was  not  to  be  softened  by  the  rich  and 
beautiful  light  that  at  this  hour  clothed  it.  I  asked 
Captain  Dopping  if  he  was  acquainted  with  this 
coast,  and  he  answered  that  many  years  before  he 
had  made  a  trip  to  Whitehaven,  which  lay  round 
the  corner  to  the  north  of  St.  Bees  Head.  That 
was  all  he  knew  of  the  Cumberland  shore.  Occa- 
sionally Don  Lazarillo  would  descend  into  the  cabin, 
and  twice  on  glancing  through  the  skylight  I 
detected  him  in  the  act  of  pouring  out  with  a 
trembling  hand  a  full  bumper  of  sherry,  which  he 
seemed  to  swallow  furtively,  but  looking  round  in- 
stead of  up,  possibly  forgetting  the  deck  window 
through  which  I  peeped.  These  draughts  began  to 
tell  upon  him ;  his  face  grew  flushed,  his  fiery  eyes 


86       THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

moist,  and  his  gait  clianged  into  a  defiant  strut 
when  he  moved  restlessly  about  his  friend,  talking 
with  extraordinary  vehemence  and  a  frequent  snap 
of  his  fingers.  Don  Christoval,  on  the  other  hand, 
exhibited  a  new  phase  of  mood.  There  was  less  of 
gloom  in  his  face,  more  of  animation.  He  smoked 
his  cigar  collectedly,  with  now  and  again  a  smile, 
and  sometimes  a  laugh  at  what  his  flushed-faced, 
restless,  gesticulating  companion  said.  I  took  it 
that  the  English  blood  in  his  veins  kept  his  nerves 
steady  without  obliging  him  to  imitate  Don  Laza- 
rillo's  quest  after  courage  in  the  contents  of  a  de- 
canter of  wine. 

I  remember  the  sunset  that  night  as  one  of  sul- 
len and  thunderous  magnificence.  The  luminary, 
like  a  huge  red  rayless  target,  sank  into  the  coast  of 
cloud  over  the  stern,  setting  fire  to  the  round  and 
tufted  shoulders  of  the  long,  compacted  mass,  but 
darkening  the  base  of  it  into  an  ugly  livid  hue. 
Long  beams  of  light,  like  the  spokes  of  some  titanic 
wheel  of  flame,  projected  in  burning  lines  till  their 
red  and  storm-colored  extremities  were  over  our 
mastheads ;  and  as  they  slowly  fainted,  the  coast 
ahead  of  us  darkened,  the  blue  of  the  sky  beyond  it 
deepened  into  liquid  dusk  with  a  single  rose-colored 
star  faintly  trembling  in  the  heavens  almost  directly 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  87 

above  the  bay  that  was  onr  destination,  as  though 
it  were  some  freshly  kindled  beacon  to  advise  us 
how  to  head  through  the  aj)proacliing  gloom. 

We  continued  slowly  to  stand  i]i.  The  stem  of 
the  schooner  scarcely  broke  the  quiet  water,  and  I 
reckoned  that  unless  more  wind  came  we  should 
not  have  arrived  at  a  point  where  we  were  to  come 
to  a  stand  much  before  midnight.  The  moon  rose 
somewhere  about  half -past  eight.  Slie  soared  in  a 
swollen  mass  of  crimson  out  of  the  inky  dye  of  the 
land,  but  swiftly  changed  into  clear  silver.  Astern 
of  us  there  was  a  constant  play  of  red  lightning, 
with  an  occasional  moan  of  thunder  slij^ping  over 
the  dark  soft  folds  of  the  small  swell.  The  two 
Spaniards,  Captain  Dopping,  and  myself  stood  near 
the  helm. 

"  The  moon,"  said  Don  Christoval,  "  shines  full 
upon  our  white  canvas,  and  reveals  us." 

"  But  first  of  all,"  said  Captain  Dopping,  "  who's 
keeping  a  look-out  yonder  ?  And  next,  supposing 
there  to  be  eyes  on  the  watch,  who's  to  guess  our 
business  ?  Wouldn't  any  man  who  may  already 
have  twigged  us  through  a  glass  reckon  us  a  gentle- 
man's pleasure-yacht  from  the  Isle  of  Man,  say, 
sauntering  inward  in  view  of  this  quiet  night  with 
a  chance  of  a  calm  atop  of  it?     But  if  you  like, 


88  THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

Don  Christoval — though  it's  not  what  I  should  rec- 
ommend— we'll  stand  in  a  mile  or  two  farther,  then 
douse  evei-y  stitch,  and  ride  to  a  short  scope.  The 
soundings  '11  be  about  twenty  fathom." 

"  That  will  look  suspicious,"  said  Don  Christo- 
val. "  I  do  not  like  the  idea.  I  do  not  advocate 
anchoring.  See  the  time  that  will  be  lost  in  heav- 
ing up  the  anchor." 

"  What  ees  it  dat  Capitan  Dopping  say  'i "  in- 
quired Don  Lazarillo. 

His  friend  explained ;  on  which  Don  Lazarillo 
cried  out  shrilly,  "  No,  no,  no,"  and  addressed  Don 
Christoval  in  Spanish  with  incredible  vehemence  of 
delivery  and  gesticulation,  his  friend  meanwhile  ut- 
tering the  single  word  "  Si !  "  in  a  soothing  note 
over  and  over  again. 

"  But  if  this  breeze  takes  off.  Captain  Dop- 
ping," said  I,  when  I  could  get  an  opportunity  to 
speak,  "  you'll  either  have  to  bring  up  or  take  your 
chance  of  the  schooner  drifting  far  enough  to  make 
the  pull  from  the  shore  to  her  a  long  one." 

Captain  Dopping  stared  round  the  sea,  whist- 
ling. 

"  How  far  off  is  the  land  ? "  said  Don  Chris- 
toval. 

"  Call  it  six  mile,"  answered  the  captain. 


DON  CHRISTOVAL'S  STORY.  89 

"  It  would  be  too  far  to  row,"  said  Don  Chris- 
toval.     "  We  must  creep  farther  in." 

"  At  what  hour,  sir,"  I  asked,  "  do  you  wish  to 
land?" 

"  It  must  be  past  midnight,"  answered  the  Span- 
iard, "  when  the  house  is  hushed,  and  when,  should 
firearms  be  used,  there  will  be  no  one  awake  in  the 
country  around  to  hear  the  reports." 

"  And  how  long  is  the  job  going  to  take  us,  I 
wonder  ?  "  said  Captain  Dopping,  cutting  off  a  piece 
of  black  tobacco  with  a  big  clasp  knife,  whose  blade 
glittered  in  the  moonlight,  and  burying  the  morsel 
in  his  cheek. 

"  An  hour — easily  in  an  hour,"  answered  Don 
Christoval,  speaking  rapidly  and  breathing  swiftly. 
"  Mark  now  how  I  piece  out  the  time  :  three  quar- 
ters of  an  hour  to  row  ashore,  half  an  hour  to 
march  to  the  house,  that  makes  an  hour  and  a  quar- 
ter ;  an  hour  in  executing  our  errand,  that  makes 
two  hours  and  a  quarter ;  and  then  another  hour 
and  a  quarter  to  regain  the  schooner,  that  makes 
three  hours  and  a  half  in  all.  Call  the  time  four 
o'clock  when  we  sail  away,  by  five  we  shall  be  out 
of  sight  of  land." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A   MIDNIGHT   THEFT. 

It  fell  a  stark  calm  at  ten  o'clock,  and  then  I 
believed  that  there  could  be  nothing  for  it  but  to 
bring  up— that  is,  to  let  go  the  anchor ;  but  half  an 
hour  later  the  moonhght  upon  the  water — for  by 
this  time  the  moon  had  floated  southward  —  was 
tarnished  bj  a  little  air  of  wind  from  the  south  and 
west;  it  breathed,  wet  with  dew,  like  a  sigh  into 
the  schooner's  canvas,  then  softly  freshened  into  a 
small  summer  night-wind.  The  mass  of  clouds  in 
the  west  had  vanished  ;  all  was  clear  heaven  from 
the  sea  line  there  to  the  looming  shadow  of  the  land 
over  our  bow;  the  moon  rode  high,  small  and 
piercingly  clear ;  the  canvas  shone  like  ice  in  the 
light;  stars  of  diamond-like  brilliance  sparkled  in 
the  moisture  along  the  rail ;  and  every  man's  shadow 
lay  at  his  feet  upon  the  pearl-colored  planks,  as 
though  drawn  in  Indian  ink  there.  The  hush  of 
expectation  lay  upon  the  little  vessel  as  she  crept 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  91 

along  with  a  noise  of  rippling  water  refreshingly 
rising  from  alongside.  Captain  Dopping  held  his 
watch  to  the  moon. 

"  Wants  but  twenty  minutes  to  midnight,"  said 
he  ;  "  we're  close  enough  in.  Down  helm,"  and  he 
began  to  sing  out  orders  in  a  voice  Mdiose  harshness 
sounded  startlingly  upon  the  ear  amid  the  exquisite 
serenity  of  that  moonlit  night. 

The  men  ran  about,  still  further  reducing  sail. 
So  clear  was  the  night,  it  was  possible  even  at  a  dis- 
tance to  read  the  expressions  upon  their  faces. 
There  was  no  Preventive  Force  or  Coastguard  Serv- 
ice then  as  now.  The  English  coast  was  indeed 
watched  at  certain  parts  of  it  wdiere  smuggling  was 
notoriously  carried  on,  and  the  people  who  kept  a 
look-out  were  styled  blockaders ;  but  the  northern 
reaches,  more  particularly  where  the  coast  was  rug- 
ged and  high,  and  where  the  facility  for  "  running  " 
goods,  as  it  was  called,  was  small,  were  unsentineled. 
The  smuggler  needed  the  accommodating  creek,  the 
comfortably  shoaling  foreshore,  secret  hiding  places, 
and,  above  all,  a  handy  local  machinery  for  the 
prompt  distribution  of  his  commodities.  All  this 
was  to  be  found  in  the  English  Channel,  more  par- 
ticularly in  that  stretch  of  it  which  lies  between  the 
North  and  South  Forelands;  but  it  was  not  to  be 


92      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

met  with  up  here,  on  this  lonely  iron-bound  Cum- 
berland coast.  In  our  time,  even  in  these  times, 
Avhen  smuggling  is  a  decaying,  an  almost  extinct 
business,  the  pallid  apparition  of  such  a  schooner  as 
La  Casandra  hovering  doubtfully  at  midnight  off 
any  point  of  the  English  shore  would  infallibly 
in  a  very  short  time  win  the  regard  and  invite  the 
visit  of  a  boat  full  of  brawny  coastguards,  armed,  as 
our  men  were  about  to  arm  themselves,  with  pistols 
and  with  cutlasses.  ' 

"  Get  the  boat  launched,  my  lads,"  called  out 
Captain  Dopping. 

The  gangway  was  unshipped,  the  muscular  fists 
of  the  seamen  gripped  her  gunwales,  and  she  was 
run  with  a  note  of  thunder  overboard,  stern  fore- 
most, smiting  the  water  a  blow  that  lashed  it  white, 
then  lying  quietly  in  the  shadow  of  the  schooner. 
The  two  Spaniards  descended  into  the  cabin,  Don 
Lazarillo  talking  noisily  as  he  trod  upon  his  compan- 
ion's heels.  I  stood  looking  on  while  Captain  Dop- 
ping and  the  seamen  girded  the  cutlasses  to  their 
hips  and  thrust  pistols  into  their  pockets  or  breasts. 

"  You  will  keep  a  bright  look-out  for  us,  Mr. 
Portlack,"  said  the  captain.  "  Hold  the  schooner  as 
stationary  as  possible.  There's  nothing  going  to 
hurt  her  to-night,"  said  he,  with  a  look  round,  "  and 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  93 

there'll  be  no  tide  to  speak  of  for  another  two  hours. 
You  will  then  wear  and  keep  her  with  her  head  to 
the  nor'ard." 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir.  But  suppose,  while  you're  ashore, 
a  boat  should  come  off  and  speak  us  ? " 

"  Not  likel}^,  not  likely,"  he  rasped  out. 

"  But  suppose  it.  Captain  Dopping.  I  accept  no 
responsibility.  "What  am  I  to  say,  and  what  am  I  to 
do?" 

"  Don't  Don  Christoval  and  his  friend  mean  to 
come  ? "  he  answered,  walking  to  the  skyhght  and 
looking  down. 

Either  he  could  not  invent  any  instructions,  or 
he  considered  a  visit  from  a  shore  boat  as  a  thing  too 
improbable  to  merit  consideration. 

The  two  Spaniards  came  on  deck.  I  had  never 
supposed  that  Don  Lazarillo  would  have  had  cour- 
age to  enter  the  boat  until  I  obser\ed  that  he  had 
armed  himself  with  a  long  saber,  the  extremity  of 
whose  steel  scabbard  was  visible  at  the  skirts  of  the 
Spanish  cloak  he  had  drawn  over  his  shoulders. 
Don  Christoval  was  similarly  swathed,  but  how 
armed  I  am  unable  to  say,  as  no  weapon  was  to  be 
seen  upon  him. 

"  All's  ready  for  the  start,  gentlemen,"  exclaimed 
Captain  Dopping. 


9^      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  Riglit !  "  exclaimed  Don  Christoval  in  a  firm, 
deep  voice,  "  let  the  men  enter  the  boat." 

The  sailors  dropped  into  her  one  by  one,  and  sat 
silent  and  grim  and  dark  in  the  gloom  of  the  schoon- 
er's side,  waiting. 

"  Where  is  Mariana  ? "  cried  Don  Christoval. 

The  ugly  cook's  voice  answered  from  somewhere 
forward,  and  he  approached.  Don  Christoval  ad- 
dressed him  in  Spanish  impressively,  and  as  it 
seemed  to  my  ear  menacingly,  emphasizing  his 
words  with  frequent  gestures.  Mariana  responded 
humbly  with  many  shakes  of  the  head,  as  though  in 
deprecation  of  what  had  been  said  to  him.  Don 
Christoval  then  turned  to  me  and  extended  his  hand. 

"  Mr.  Portlack,  I  rely  upon  your  vigilance  and 
seamanship.     "We  hope  not  to  be  long  absent." 

He  relinquished  my  hand,  I  raised  my  cap,  and 
without  another  word,  he,  Don  Lazarillo  and  Cap- 
tain Dopping  stepped  over  the  side. 

"  Shove  off,"  the  captain  exclaimed,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  boat  was  gliding  shoreward  to  the 
noise  of  the  rhythmic  grind  of  her  five  long  oars 
betwixt  the  thole-pins,  with  eddies  of  dim  phos- 
phorescence under  each  lifted  blade. 

I  watched  her  until  her  small  shape,  blending 
with  the  shadow  thrown  by  the  high  land  upon  the 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  95 

water,  was  lost  to  siglit,  and  tlien  stepped  aft  to  the 
helm,  at  which  stood  the  negro  boy  Tom,  who  had 
been  ordered  to  the  tiller  by  me  when  the  steersman 
had  relinquished  it  to  enter  the  boat.  I  mechanically 
eyed  the  illuminated  disk  of  compass  card,  while 
my  thoughts  accompanied  the  armed  expedition  that 
was  making  for  the  shore.  I  figured  the  arrival  of 
the  boat  at  the  margin  of  white  sand  that  curved 
with  the  bay ;  i)i  fancy  I  saw  the  people  get  out  of 
her,  leaving  one  behind  to  watch,  and  marching  in 
a  little  dark  company  up  the  gap,  a  faint  noise  of 
the  clank  of  side-arms  attending  them.  In  imagina- 
tion I  marked  them  cautiously  approach  the  house 
— but  what  sort  of  house  was  it  ?  Walls  I  had 
heard  it  had,  and  gates,  and  these  must  be  forced  or 
scaled.  But  what  of  Madame  del  Padron,  the  Ida  of 
Don  Christoval's  heart,  if  not  of  his  hearth  ?  Was 
she  lying  awake  yonder,  expecting  her  husband? 
Impossible !  for  no  date  could  certainly  have  been 
fixed  for  the  arrival  of  the  schooner  off  the  coast. 
But  of  course  she  would  be  awaiting  him  with  im- 
passioned anxiety  at  all  hours  of  the  night — nights 
that  were  gone,  and  to-night  that  was  going  :  and  he 
would  have  told  her  that  he  meant  to  regain  her 
with  the  aid  of  an  armed  crew  of  seamen.  Yet, 
though  forewarned,  should  a  struggle  happen,  she 


96      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

would  listen  with  terror  to  the  sound  of  fire- arms,  to. 
explosions,  which  might  signify  the  death  of  her 
husband,  or  the  fall  of  one  or  more  of  her  own 
people,  only  a  little  less  dear  to  her  than  her  hus- 
band. What  was  her  age  ?  Was  she  dark  or  fair  ? 
Beautiful  I  could  not  but  imagine  the  heroine,  or, 
rather,  the  object,  of  such  an  adventure  as  this 
must  be. 

Then  from  musings  of  this  sort  my  mind  ram- 
bled into  reflections  of  the  odd  and  perilous  fortune 
that  had  brought  me  into  this  business.  How  had 
fared  the  two  sailors  whom  the  murderous  rogue  of 
a  Yankee  skipper  had  pilfered  from  me?  Into 
what- parallels  had  the  Ocean  Kanger  penetrated  by 
this  time,  and  what  man  of  her  crew  had  been  se- 
lected to  fill  my  place  ?  I  looked  at  the  negro  boy, 
whose  eyes  in  the  moonlight  resembled  a  brace  of 
new  silver  coins  set  in  a  block  of  indigo. 

"  What's  your  other  name  ? "  said  I. 

"  Tom,  sah." 

"  Ay,  but  what  besides  Tom  ? " 

"  Tom  ober  and  ober  again,  massa,  as  often  as 
yah  like." 

"  How  old  are  vou  ? " 

t/ 

He  grinned  widely  as  he  answered,  "I^ebber 
was  told,  sah." 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  97 

"  Are  you  a  Roman  Catholic  ? "  said  I,  talking 
slieerlj  for  the  want  of  sometliing  to  do,  and  im- 
agining he  miglit  have  been  chosen  by  Don  Christo- 
val  because  of  his  rehgion. 

He  shook  his  head,  still  broadly  grinning,  but 
meaning  that  he  did  not  understand. 

"  Have  you  any  religion  ? " 

"  Yes,  sah." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  believe  dat  when  I  die  I  shall  be  seen  no 
mo'." 

"  Where  do  you  go  when  you  die  ? " 

"  I  know,  sah,"  he  answered,  with  a  low  throaty 
laugh. 

"  Where  ? "  said  I. 

"  Dis  child,"  said  he,  touching  his  body,  "  goes 
dar,"  and  he  pointed  down ;  "  dat  child,"  he  con- 
tinued, indicating  his  shadow  that  stretched  sharply 
defined  upon  the  planks,  "  goes  up  dar,"  and  he 
pointed  upward. 

"  Who  taught  you  that  ? "  said  I. 

"  Is  it  true,  massa  ? " 

"  Mind  your  helm,"  said  I,  "  and  I'll  talk  to  you 
another  time," 

I  went  to  the  side  and  peered.  The  atmosphere 
in  the  south-west  was  brimful  of  moonshine,  and  the 


98      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

sea  line  mingled  with  the  sky  in  the  delicate  haze  of 
sheen  till  you  could  not  tell  heaven  from  water. 
Nothing  broke  the  stillness  but  the  voice  of  the 
wind-brushed  ripples,  unless  it  were  the  chafe  of  a 
rope  on  high  or  the  gull-like  cry  of  the  sheave  of  a 
block  stirred  by  a  sudden  strain.  The  shadowy  iig- 
ure  of  Mariana,  the  cook,  restlessly  paced  the  deck 
forward.  He  seemed  to  be  keeping  a  sharp  look- 
out, as  I  was.  A  flock  of  w^ild  fowl  passed  high 
overhead  ;  their  cries  as  they  swept,  invisible,  over 
our  trucks  made  a  strange,  solemn,  plaintive  noise 
in  the  midnight  silence  that  was  upon  the  sea. 
Sometimes  I  believed  I  could  hear  the  small  remote 
thunder  of  surf  echoing  out  of  the  line  of  land 
which,  now  that  the  moon  was  shining  upon  it, 
stood  in  a  long  pale  spectral  range. 

I  was  tliirsty  and  stepped  below  for  a  tumbler 
of  seltzer  and  claret.  I  took  a  cigar  from  a  box 
which  stood  upon  the  table,  dimmed  the  cabin 
lamps,  and  returned  on  deck.  Expectation,  the 
constant  obligation  of  keeping  a  penetrating  look- 
out, made  the  time  heavy.  The  moon  floated  into 
the  western  quarter,  and  slowly  the  orb  lost  its  brill- 
iance and  took  its  rusty  hue  of  setting,  though  it 
was  still  high  above  the  horizon.  Nothing  in  the 
shape  of  a  sail  was  visible  the  wide  sea  round ;  I 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  99 

was  able  to  sink  my  sight  to  the  confines  of  the 
water,  but  never  could  see  the  dimmest  apparition 
of  a  ship. 

Some  time  before  three  o'clock  I  wore  the 
schooner,  and  waiting  until  she  regained  the  point 
at  which  the  boat  had  left  her,  I  brouglit  her  head 
to  the  wind  and  held  her  so  with  her  canvas  trem- 
bling to  the  breeze.  It  was  shortly  after  I  had  done 
this  that  my  eye  was  taken  by  a  faint  redness 
ashore.  The  rim  of  the  cliff  turned  black  against 
the  dim  crimson  light.  It  might  have  passed  as  the 
first  of  the  lunar  dawn — as  though  another  moon 
were  rising  beyond  the  land  to  replace  the  orb  that 
was  sinking  in  the  west.  Mariana  came  out  of  the 
bows  and  called  out  to  me  with  his  incommunicable 
accent : 

"  Seiior,  do  you  see  ? "  and  he  pointed  to  the 
light. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  that  looks  like  a  fire  ashore. 
Whether  the  house  has  been  fired  by  design  or  mis- 
chance, our  people  will  have  to  bear  a  hand  ;  for 
should  there  be  any  sort  of  country-side  thereabouts 
it'll  be  swiftly  up  and  wide  awake  and  running  and 
shouting  to  that  signal." 

He  grunted,  evidently  without  understanding  a 
word  of  what  I  had  said,  and  went  forward  again. 


100     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

I  had  just  glanced  at  the  cabin  clock  and  ob- 
served that  it  exactly  wanted  five  minntes  to  four 
when  my  ears  were  caught  by  the  sound  of  oars 
working  in  their  pins.  A  moment  later  we  were 
hailed  in  a  voice  thin  with  distance.  I  answered 
with  a  "  Halloa  !  "  at  the  top  of  my  lungs.  Pres- 
ently the  boat  shaped  itself  out  of  the  gloom  that 
lay  heavy  upon  the  waters  to  the  eastward.  The 
gathering  strength  of  the  grinding  noise  was  war- 
rant that  the  men  strained  hard  at  their  oars.  The 
boat  came  shearing  and  hissing  alongside  as  though 
her  stem  were  of  red-hot  steel ;  the  oars  were  flung 
in  and  a  boat-hook  arrested  the  fabric's  progress. 

I  stood  at  the  side  in  the  open  space  of  the 
schooner's  gangway.  My  eye  was  instantly  caught 
by  the  figure  of  a  woman  supported  in  the  arms  of 
Don  Christoval.  One  sees  a  thing  quickly,  and  in 
the  breathless  pause  between  the  arrival  of  the  boat 
and  what  next  happened  I  had  time  to  note  that 
the  woman  rested  perfectly  motionless  as  though 
dead,  that  her  head  was  uncovered,  and  that  her  left 
arm  lay  like  a  stroke  or  dash  of  white  paint  in  the 
gloom  with  a  scintillation  of  gems  in  the  dim  gleam 
of  some  gold  ornaments  upon  her  wrist.  Indeed, 
imperfect  as  my  view  was  of  her,  I  might  yet  know 
that  she  was  in  ball  attire  ! 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  101 

Three  or  four  seamen  came  bounding  out  of  the 
boat ;  the  voice  of  Don  Christoval  exclaimed  : 

"  Is  that  you,  Mr.  Portlack  ? " 

"  It  is,  sir." 

"  Captain  Dopping,"  he  cried,  "  lias  been  shot 
dead.  We  were  forced  to  leave  him  behind.  Tlie 
command  of  the  schooner  devolves  upon  you.  This 
lady  is  in  a  heavy  swoon,  and  must  be  lifted  over 
the  side.  Let  it  be  done  instantly,  pray  ;  there  is 
no  time  to  lose.'' 

1  was  greatly  startled  and  shocked  to  hear  of 
Captain  Dopping  having  been  shot  dead  and  left 
behind,  but  the  general  agitation  of  the  moment, 
the  obligation  of  hurry,  the  wild  impatience  of  the 
Spaniard,  that  hissed  feverishly  through  his  words, 
gave  me  no  time  to  think  of  anything  but  what  we 
had  in  hand.  Don  Christoval,  muscular  and  big  as 
he  was,  was  unable,  no  doubt  through  exhaustion, 
to  rise  with  the  burden  he  supported.  Don  Laza- 
rillo,  addressing  him  in  Spanish,  sprang  on  board 
the  schooner.  I  ordered  a  couple  of  seamen  to  as- 
sist Don  Christoval,  and  the  lady  was  lifted  over  the 
side  and  received  by  Don  Lazarillo  and  Mariana, 
who  straightway  bore  her  below.  I  believed  her  to 
be  dead.  She  never  stirred,  or  uttered  the  least 
sound. 


102     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  Are  all  returned,  saving  tlie  captain  ?  "  I  called 
out. 

"  All  returned,  sir,"  answered  tlie  gruff  voice  of 
one  of  the  seamen. 

" Anybody  wounded  ? " 

"  Nobody  hurt,  saving  the  captain,  who  was  shot 
dead,"  responded  the  same  voice. 

Don  Christoval,  with  a  stagger  in  his  gait, 
stepped  out  of  the  boat  on  to  the  deck,  calling  to 
me  to  give  him  my  hand,  lest  he  should  fall  back- 
ward. 

"Be  quick,  and  sail  away,  Mr.  Portlack,"  said 
he,  hoarsely.  "  A  wing  of  the  house  caught  tire,  but 
through  no  fault  of  ours — no !  It  was  owing  to  the 
carelessness  of  some  terrified  servant  within.  Only 
one  shot  was  fired ;  it  was  meant  for  me,  and  slew 
Captain  Dopping,  w^ho  was  at  my  side.  That  fire 
was  a  terrible  signal — it  may  still  be  burning :  I 
do  not  know ;  all  seemed  in  darkness  when  we 
gained  the  gap,  but  they  rang  a  danger  bell,  a  fear- 
ful summons  that  seemed  to  echo  for  miles  and 
miles.  Did  you  hear  it  here  ? "  he  cried,  almost 
gasping  with  the  rapidity  of  his  utterance. 

"  No,  sir." 

"Mounted  messengers  will  have  been  flying 
from  place  to  place  long  ago,"  he  continued  ;  "  they 


A   MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  103 

will  send  to  Whitehaven,  where,  I  heard  our  sailors 
say,  there  may  be  lying  a  Revenue  cutter,  or  some 
more  formidable  ship  of  the  State  yet,  to  pursue  us ; 
therefore,  for  om*  lives'  sake,  Mr.  Portlack,  get  the 
boat  in  and  start  at  once." 

He  paused  an  instant  to  clasp  his  hands  with  an 
air  of  impassioned,  theatrical  appeal  to  me,  then 
went  below  walking  like  a  drunken  man. 

The  bows  of  the  boat  were  hastily  hoisted  into 
the  gangway  by  means  of  a  tackle  called  a  burton. 
All  hands  of  us  then  grasped  the  fabric,  and  dragged 
her  bodily  to  her  place  on  the  deck.  I  could  collect, 
by  the  motions  of  the  men,  that  they  were  frightful- 
ly fatigued,  but  they  worked  with  a  will,  as  for  their 
lives,  indeed ;  well  knowing — better  knowing  than  I 
probably — what  must  be  the  fate  of  all  hands  of  us 
if  we  were  to  be  captured  red-handed  thus,  with  the 
house  still  on  fire  ashore  for  all  we  could  tell — 
though  I  could  now  see  no  signs  of  the  glow  I  had 
before  observed — and  with  the  dead  body  of  the 
captain  to  fearfully  testify  to  the  audacious  nature 
of  this  expedition. 

Every  stitch  of  sail  the  schooner  carried  was, 
cloth  by  cloth,  expanded.  Within  ten  minutes  of 
the  boat's  return  she  was  in  her  place  on  deck,  the 
little  topgallant-sail  was  being  sheeted  home,  and  La 


104      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

Casandra,  under  full  breasts  of  canvas,  was  sliding 
out  into  the  gloom  south  and  west.  Clouds  had 
collected  in  the  west ;  and  if  the  moon  still  hung 
over  the  sea,  she  could  not  show  her  face.  Our 
course  brought  the  weak  damp  wind  a  little  forward 
of  the  beam.  This  was  the  schooner's  best  point  of 
sailing,  and  she  slided  through  it  with  a  nimbi eness 
that  I  hoped  would  put  her  out  of  sight  of  land 
before  daybreak. 

Wliile  the  men,  with  weary  motions,  were  coil- 
ing away  the  running  gear  which  littered  the  deck, 
Mariana  came  up  out  of  the  cabin  with  a  bottle  of 
brandy.  He  told  me  that  Don  Christoval  wished 
the  sailors  to  drink.     I  said — 

"  Take  it  forward  and  serve  it  out ;  but  see  that 
no  man  gets  more  than  a  dram.  If  you  muddle 
their  brains,  you  will  be  putting  us  in  the  way  of 
beino;  han2:ed." 

That  he  partly  understood  me  I  knew,  by  the 
energetic  assent  he  howled  out  in  his  own  tongue. 
I  carefully  swept  the  sea  line,  and  then  took  a  look 
through  the  cabin  skylight.  I  had  intended  no 
more  than  a  glance,  but  my  gaze  was  arrested,  as 
though  fascinated  by  the  spectacle  it  surveyed. 
Some  one  had  turned  up  the  lamps,  and  their  flames 
burned  brightlv.     Don  Christoval  sat  at  the  table. 


A   MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  105 

supporting  his  head  by  resting  his  jaw  npon  his 
chnched  fists.  Don  Lazarillo  occupied  a  chair  close 
to  him ;  a  tumbler,  half  full,  was  before  him ;  he 
held  an  unlighted  cigar,  and  his  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  the  object  at  which  his  friend  was  staring. 

This  was  no  more  nor  less  than  the  figure  of  a 
girl  of  about  two-and-twenty,  resting  at  full  length 
upon  a  velvet  couch.  The  remains  of  what  might 
have  been  a  wreath  of  flowers  were  in  her  hair.  A 
portion  of  her  hair,  that  was  of  a  dark  red,  and  that 
glowed  like  gold,  as  though  it  had  been  plentifully 
dusted  with  gilt  powder,  was  detached,  and  lay  in  a 
long  thick  tress  upon  her  shoulder.  They  had  un- 
clasped a  rich  opera  cloak,  and  her  attire  was 
revealed.  Her  ball-dress  of  white  satin,  looped  here 
and  there  Avith  pink  roses,  was  cut  low,  and  exposed 
her  throat  and  shoulders ;  but  there  were  some 
ugly  scratches  on  the  flesh  near  her  left  shoulder. 
She  wore  very  handsome  jewelry  :  diamond  ear- 
rings, a  rope  of  pearls  with  a  cross  of  diamonds 
that  sparkled  against  the  dark  yellow  of  the  tresses 
which  had  fallen.  Her  arms  of  faultless  mold  were 
bare  to  the  short  sleeves ;  her  hands  were  gloved  ;  I 
believed  I  could  witness  traces  of  blood  upon  the 
white  kid  ;  and  lier  wrists  were  circled  with  brace- 
lets. 


106     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

But  to  describe  all  this  is  really  to  describe 
nothing :  for  how  am  I  to  convey  to  you  the  dis- 
order of  apparel  that  suggested  a  struggle  which 
you  must  have  thought  deadly  in  its  consequences, 
when  you  looked  at  her  motionless  shape,  her  closed 
eyes,  her  bloodless  face,  and  the  lifeless  pose  of  her 
arms  ? 

I  stood  gazing.  Presently  Don  Christoval, 
extending  a  trembhng  hand,  poured  himself  out 
half  a  tumbler  of  brandy — brandy  I  might  suppose 
it  was,  by  observing  that  he  filled  up  the  glass  with 
water.  He  drained  the  tumbler,  and  suddenly 
looked  up  and  saw  me.  He  instantly  rose  aud  came 
on  deck.  He  was  without  his  hat.  He  seated  him- 
self on  the  corner  of  the  skylight,  where  he  com- 
manded a  view  of  the  interior  of  the  cabin,  and 
called  down  some  words  in  Spanish  to  Don  Lazarillo, 
who  nodded  violently,  but  without  removing  his 
eyes  from  the  girl. 

"  Does  the  schooner  make  good  way  ? "  said 
Don  Christoval. 

"  Yes,"  I  answered ;  "  her  speed  is  about  five 
miles  an  hour." 

"  At  dawn  shall  we  be  out  of  sight  of  the 
coast  ? " 

"  It  will  not  be  long  before  daybreak,"  said  I, 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  107 

"  and  at  dawn  the  coast  may  be  in  siglit  of  us,  but  I 
do  not  suppose  we  shall  be  in  sight  of  it," 

He  stood  up  to  look  around  the  sea. 

"  It  is  sad,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that  Captain  Dop- 
ping  should  have  been  shot." 

"  It  is  shocking,"  said  I. 

"  You  have  sole  control  of  the  schooner  now, 
Captain  Portlack,  for  my  captain  I  make  you,"  said 
he.  "  And  the  money  that  I  had  agreed  to  pay  to 
Captain  Dopping  shall  be  yours,  in  addition  to  the 
fifty  guineas  as  arranged." 

I  gave  him  a  bow  and  said,  "  Thank  you."  My 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  motionless  girl  below  ;  he 
was  able  to  observe  the  direction  of  my  gaze  by  the 
sheen  of  the  lamplight,  that  rose  like  a  haze  through 
the  glass  and  the  lifted  lid  of  the  skylight. 

"  Plow  cruel !  how  cruel ! "  said  he,  in  a  deep  yet 
musical  voice,  that  was  not  the  less  thrilling  because 
of  a  certain  indefinable  flavor  of  theatricalism ; 
"  how  cruel,  that  I  should  be  obliged  to  claim  what 
is  mine  by  force,  which  I  find  barbarous  when  I 
look  there,"  said  he,  pointing  to  the  figure  of  his 
wife,  "  and  when  I  recall  Captain  Dopping's  cry  as 
he  fell  lifeless  at  my  side." 

"  Is  your  lady  dead  ?  "  said  I. 

"  No,  no,  I  think  not ;  indeed,  I  am  sure  not. 


108     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

She  is  sunk  in  a  trance  or  stupor.  If  she  were  bled, 
she  would  revive ;  but  there  is  no  man  on  board  who 
has  the  skill  to  bleed  her." 

"  She  looks  to  have  been  very  roughly  handled." 
"  What  you  see,"  he  cried,  "  is  the  work  of  her 
inhuman  father  and  brother.  Captain  Noble,  his 
son,  and  my  wife  had  returned  from  a  ball.  We 
found  the  gate  open,  the  carriage  at  the  door  :  they 
had  only  just  alighted,  indeed,  and  the  carriage  was 
in  the  act  of  driving  away ;  but  the  hall-door  was 
closed.  We  knocked,  and  Captain  Noble  put  his 
head  out  of  a  window  and  asked  who  was  there.  I 
told  him  that  it  was  I,  Don  Christoval  del  Padron  ; 
that  I  had  arrived  to  take  possession  of  my  wife, 
whom  he  had  forcibly  divorced  from  me  and  was 
keeping  a  prisoner — that  is,  never  leaving  her  out 
of  his  own  sig-ht  or  the  sight  of  others  of  his  familv. 
He  disappeared,  and  then  returned  to  the  window. 
I  did  not  know  he  was  armed.  He  shouted  insult- 
ingly to  us  to  be  off.  "  Give  me  my  wife  !  "  I  cried. 
"  I  desire  no  struggle,  no  uproar.  Give  her  to  me,  to 
whom  she  belongs,  and  we  will  withdraw  peace- 
fully." He  fired,  and  Captain  Dopping  fell  and 
died  with  a  groan.  On  this  we  stormed  the  door  ; 
we  put  a  pistol  to  the  keyhole  and  blew  away  the 
lock.     Strangely  enough,  the  door  was  not  bolted. 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  109 

No  doubt,  in  the  alarm  our  sudden  appearance  had 
caused,  this  had  been  overlooked,  or  possibly  Cap- 
tain Noble  supposed  that  some  one  had  shot  the 
bolts.  We  entered  ;  but  what  follows  others  may 
be  better  able  to  tell  than  I.  All  was  confusion  and 
cries.  They  had  hidden  my  wife.  We  entered  five 
rooms  before  we  found  her.  This  search  was  mine 
and  Don  Lazarillo's.  The  seamen  guarded  the  door, 
and  stood  cutlass  in  hand  over  Captain  Noble  and 
his  son.  I  found  my  wife  locked  in  a  room.  When 
I  turned  the  key  and  she  beheld  me  she  rushed  to 
my  arms  with  a  cry  of  delight.  I  enveloped  her  in 
her  opera  cloak  and  conducted  her  downstairs,  but 
on  Captain  Noble  and  his  son  beholding  us  they 
dashed  themselves  against  the  seamen,  rushed  upon 
us,  and  then  it  was  that  my  wife  suffered  in  her 
apparel  and  upon  her  neck,  as  you  see.  She  fainted, 
she  instantly  became  insensible.  In  the  stupor  that 
she  now  lies  in  we  carried  her  to  the  boat.  As  we 
left  the  house  I  saw  the  red  light  of  lire  in  a  wing 
on  the  left,  but  it  was  not  our  doing ;  they  can  not 
charge  that  to  me." 

This  extraordinary  story  he  told  in  such  broken- 
winded  English  as  I  have  attempted  to  convey  it  in. 
While  I  listened,  I  had  found  it  difficult  to  reconcile 
his  statement  that    his  wife  had  been   imprisoned 


110      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

by  her  father  witli  the  circumstance  of  her  having 
accompanied  him  and  her  brother  to  a  ball.  Then, 
again,  while  I  listened,  from  time  to  time,  looking 
at  the  figure  of  the  girl  as  he  spoke,  I  wondered,  as 
I  had  before  wondered  again  and  again,  in  thinking 
over  the  object  of  this  expedition,  why,  if  the  lady, 
as  he  had  represented,  had  been  all  anxiety  to  re- 
join her  husband,  should  Don  Christoval  have  con- 
sidered it  necessary  to  carry  an  armed  force  ashore 
with  him  ?  That  she  had  not  been  a  prisoner,  in  the 
sense  of  being  confined  to  a  room,  or  to  a  suite  of 
rooms,  was  made  manifest  by  the  ball  attire  in  which 
she  lay  as  one  dead  upon  the  cabin  sofa.  Her  lib- 
erty in  a  certain  degree  she  must  have  enjoyed. 
Could  she  not,  at  some  preconcerted  signal,  have 
stolen  from  the  house  secretly,  and  darkly  joined 
her  husband,  and  secretly  and  darkly  sailed  away 
with  him,  saving  all  this  tremendous  obligation  of 
midnight  landing  and  of  armed  seamen,  with  its 
trasric  result  of  fire  and  a  slain  man,  not  to  men- 
tion  the  condition  of  the  vdie,  who,  if  not  now 
actually  dead,  might  be  a  corpse  before  the  snn 
rose? 

There  might  have  been  a  pause  of  five  or  six 
seconds  while  I  thus  mused,  during  which  I  seemed 
to  feel  rather  than  see  that  his  dark  and  burning 


A  MIDNIGHT   THEFT.  HI 

eyes  were  scrutinizing  me  bj  aid  of  the  cabin  light 
that  touched  my  face. 

"  The  lady  lies  startlingly  motionless,  shockingly 
lifeless,  Don  Christoval,"  said  I. 

"  But  her  pulse  beats — her  pulse  beats." 

"  Shall  you  persist  in  sailing  to  Cuba,  sir  ? " 

"  Certainly ;  we  are  now  proceeding  to  Cuba," 
he  exclaimed,  and  he  half  rose  from  the  corner  of 
the  skylight  as  though  with  a  mind  to  step  to  the 
compass. 

"  Cuba  is  a  long  way  off,"  said  I. 

"  What  of  that  ? "  he  cried,  instantly,  and  with 
heat. 

"  Seeing  the  condition  of  that  lady,"  said  I,  "  I 
could  not  be  sure  but  that  you  would  wish  to  visit 
some  near  port  to  obtain  medical  help,  and " 

"  What  ? "  he  demanded,  bending  his  head  for- 
ward to  observe  me. 

"  Why  !  "  said  I,  with  embarrassment,  because  I 
was  about  to  say  something  that  might  sound  like 
impertinence  in  the  ear  of  the  Spaniard,  "  madame, 
your  wife,  Don  Christoval,  will  not  be  expected  by 
you  to  make  a  voyage  to  the  island  of  Cuba  in  a 
ball-dress." 

"  I  have  provided  for  that,"  he  exclaimed, 
haughtily.     "  I  have  minded  my  business,  Captain 


112      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

Portlack,  and  if  you  will  mind  yours  all  will  be 
well."  He  immediately  added  in  a  softened  voice, 
as  tliougli  regretting  any  display  of  temper,  "  Yes, 
we  must  proceed  to  Cuba.  If  Cuba  is  erased  from 
my  j)rogramme,  my  arrangements  will  be  rendered 
worthless.  Besides,  we  have  to-night  done  that 
which  must  oblige  us,  for  every  man's  sake,  to  put 
as  many  leagues  of  water  between  ourselves  and 
yonder  country  as  this  schooner  can  measure  in  a 
month.  The  Atlantic  Ocean  is  not  too  wide  for  us 
after  what  has  happened  in  the  darkness  this  morn- 
mg." 

Just  then  the  cook  or  steward  Mariana  came 
under  the  skyhght  and  upturned  his  mask  of  a  face. 
He  addressed  Don  Christoval  in  Spanish.  The 
other  answered  and  was  about  quitting  me,  but 
stopped  and  said  :  "  Let  me  see,  Captain  Portlack,  I 
believe  you  sleep  under  the  main  hatch  ? " 

I  said  yes,  that  was  so. 

"  Well,  we  shall  not  wish  to  disturb  you.  Don 
Lazarillo  surrenders  his  cabin  to  my  wife,  and  he 
takes  that  which  Captain  Dopping  occupied.  But 
any  conveniences  you  may  require,  pray  ask  for,  and 
you  shall  have  them.  I  will  take  care  that  all  the 
nautical  instruments,  the  chronometer,  the  charts, 
and  such  furniture  are  conveyed  to  you." 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  113 

He  then  went  below.  It  was  not  proper  that  I 
should  linger  at  the  skylight  as  though  I  were  a  spy. 
I  paced  the  deck,  looking  eastward  for  the  first 
faint  green  of  the  dawn ;  yet  my  walk  carried  me 
so  close  to  the  skylight,  and  the  length  of  deck  I 
traversed  was  so  short  besides,  that  it  was  easy  to 
see  what  was  going  on  below  without  pausing  or 
appearing  to  look.  Still,  what  I  saw  was  no  more 
than  this :  that  Don  Christoval,  his  friend,  and 
Mariana  assembled  at  the  side  of  the  unconscious 
girl,  where  they  appeared  to  hold  a  consultation; 
that  when  I  passed  the  skylight  in  another  turn,  I 
observed  them  posturing  themselves  as  though  to 
lift  her ;  and  that  when  I  once  more  passed  the  sky- 
light in  the  third  turn,  the  interior  was  empty — the 
lady  had  been  conveyed  to  her  berth. 

Day  broke  a  little  later.  The  land  showed  dim 
against  the  dawn ;  and  the  distance  we  had  made 
good  during  the  hour  of  darkness  had  carried  us, 
as  I  had  foreseen,  far  out  of  eye-shot  of  any  point 
of  the  range  of  cliffs.  There  was  a  small  vessel 
standing  to  the  north,  abeam  of  us,  and  the  sails  of 
another,  hull  down,  were  shining  upon  the  blue 
edge  of  the  sea  right  ahead,  as  prismatically  to  the 
early  piercing  radiance  of  the  now  risen  sun  as  a 
leaning  shaft  of  crystal.  I  leveled  a  glass  at  her 
8 


114     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

and  found  that  she  was  piirsning  the  course  we 
were  steering.  There  was  nothing  in  sight  where 
the  shadow  of  the  land  was  ;  but  even  if  I  had  sup- 
posed we  should  be  pursued,  I  was  very  sure  we 
should  not  be  caught.  There  was  nothing,  I  might 
swear,  flying  the  crimson  cross,  capable  of  holding 
her  own  with  La  Casandra.  As  to  our  being  inter- 
cepted— life  moved  sluggishly  in  those  days.  Steam- 
ers there  were  indeed,  but  they  were  few,  and  none 
to  be  promptly  prepared  for  sea  to  a  swift  summons. 
The  electric  telegraph  did  not  exist.  I  can  not  say 
there  were  no  railways  ;  but  I  am  certain  that  pur- 
suit would  have  been  long  rendered  hopeless  before 
intelligence  of  what  had  taken  place  could  be  com- 
municated to  a  port  where  the  machinery  necessary 
for  an  ocean  chase  was  to  be  found  and  put  in  mo- 
tion. 

But,  then,  were  we  likely  to  be  pursued  ?  Wlio 
would  be  able  to  guess  at  our  destination  ? 

I  paced  the  deck,  depressed,  anxious,  full  of 
misgiving.  I  heartily  wished  myself  out  of  this 
business ;  yet  I  now  stood  so  connnitted  to  it  that  I 
was  at  a  loss  to  know  how  to  act.  The  violent 
death  of  Captain  Dopping  was  a  shock  to  me.  It 
sharply  edged  my  realization  of  the  significance  of 
this  midnight  adventure.     And  now  that  the  tragic 


A  MIDNIGNT  THEFT.  115 

business  was  ended  there  was  something  I  found 
uninteUigible  in  it,  something  which  pleaded  to  my 
instincts,  stirring  and  troubling  them.  Four  sea- 
men  sat  to  leeward  of  the  little  galley ;  they  seemed 
to  be  dozing ;  their  whiskered  faces  were  bowed 
over  their  folded  arms ;  a  fifth  man  was  at  the 
tiller.  I  peered  through  the  skylight  and  saw  Don 
Lazarillo  asleep  in  a  chair.  The  man  at  the  helm 
was  William  Scott ;  he  had  been  there  while  Don 
Christoval  talked  to  me,  and  I  guessed  that  he  had 
overheard  every  syllable  of  the  Spaniard's  narrative 
of  the  adventures  of  the  party  ashore.  I  stepped  up 
to  him  and  said : 

"  This  has  been  a  strange  business." 

"  It  has,  sir." 

"  I  am  now  in  command  here,  as  I  suppose  you 
know  ? " 

"  I  didn't  know,  sir  ;  but  you're  the  one  to  take 
command,  surely,  now  the  captain's  dead  and  gone," 

"  Yes,  but  it  is  a  command  I  do  not  desire.  I 
shall  want  a  mate,  some  man  to  stand  watch  and 
watch  with  me.  Did  you  hear  Don  Christoval  tell 
me  just  now  what  happened  ashore  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.  His  yarn  was  pretty  near  the  truth  ; 
not  quite,  though." 

"  Where,"  said  I,  "  was  he  mistaken  ? " 


116     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  The  lady  was  insensible  when  him  and  the 
other  Spanish  gent  brought  her  downstairs.  It's 
true  that  her  father  and  the  young  gentleman,  her 
brother,  bust  from  us  when  they  see  her  being 
carried  through  the  hall,  but  it  is  not  true  that  she 
got  them  scratches  upon  her  shoulder  then.  She 
was  bleeding  when  the  two  Spaniards  came  along 
down  the  stairs  with  her.  I  took  notice  of  them 
marks,  and  so  did  Tubb  and  Butler." 

"  Did  her  father.  Captain  Noble,  say  anything 
during  the  time  you  were  guarding  him — while 
you,  or  whoever  else  it  was,  stood  watch  over 
him  % " 

"  Ay,  a  deal  more  than  my  memory  carries,  sir. 
Yet  it  was  nothing  but  calling  names — nothing  in 
the  way  of  explaining  matters.  It  was  '  TTie  in- 
fernal villain  ! — The  hrutal  wretch! — Who  are 
these  scoundrels  f — Are  you  pirates,  you  ruffians  f 
—  You  sjpeak  English  /  you  are  English  /  will  you 
hel-p  these  tioo  Spaniards,  English  as  I  reckon  you 
to  he,  to  kidnap  an  Englishwoman  from  her 
father'' s  home  in  England  ?  '  But  if  that  had  been 
all !  Butler,  he  flourished  his  cutlass  and  threatened 
to  give  the  old  gent  a  tap  over  the  head  if  he  didn't 
belay  his  jaw.  Pirates  we  wasnH  !  We  was  ashore 
helping  a  gentleman  to  his  rights.     Captain  Dop- 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  117 

ping  told  us  that  the  law  was  on  our  side,  and 
there's  ne'er  a  pirate  as  can  say  that  of  his  call- 
mg." 

I  continued  to  pace  the  deck  a  while  musing  on 
this  man's  version  of  the  adventure.  The  mornine: 
opened  wide  and  brilliant  as  the  sun  soared.  Soon 
after  daybreak  the  breeze  freshened,  and  the  waters 
were  now  streaming  and  arching  into  little  heads  of 
foam  as  they  ran  with  it.  Mariana  came  out  of  the 
cabin  and  was  trudging  forward  when  I  called  to 
him: 

"  How  is  the  lady  ?  " 

Instead  of  responding  he  shrugged  his  shoulders 
till  the  lobes  of  his  long  yellow  ears  rested  upon 
them,  proceeded  to  the  galley  and  lighted  the  fire. 
I  went  a  little  way  forward  and  called  to  the  sea- 
men, who  at  daybreak  had  risen  from  their  squatting 
postures  and  now  hung  together  talking  in  low 
voices.  They  approached  me.  There  were  four  of 
them,  Trapp,  South,  Butler,  and  Tubb  ;  Scott  still 
grasped  the  tiller  till  he  should  be  relieved  at  four 
bells — that  is  to  say,  at  six  o'clock. 

"  Men,"  said  I,  "  Don  Christoval  has  asked  me 
to  take  charge  of  this  schooner.  You  may  have 
heard  him  say  so  when  he  came  aboard  this  morn- 
ing." 


118     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  I  heard  him,  sir,"  said  Andrew  Trapp. 

"  I  shall  want  a  mate,"  said  I.  "  Butler,  you 
filled  that  post  under  Captain  Dopping.  "Will  you 
take  it  afresh  ? " 

"  If  I  must,  I  must,  sir,"  he  answered  gloomily. 
"  No  extra  pay  goes  to  the  job,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  1  can  not  tell  you.  Scott  says  that  the  lady's 
father  behaved  like  a  madman,  and  that  you  threat- 
ened him  with  your  cutlass." 

"  That's  true,"  answered  Butler.  "  He  called  us 
pirates,  and  swore  he'd  have  us  hanged  as  pirates. 
I  never  was  farmed  a  pirate  afore,  and  I  lost  my 
temper,  but  I  did  him  no  hurt." 

"  It's  a  job,"  exclaimed  Tubb,  "  which  I,  for  one, 
am  sorry  I  ever  meddled  with.  Yonder,"  cried  he, 
pointing  to  the  dim  haze  of  land,  "  lies  Captain 
Dopping,  shot  through  the  head.  Had  any  man 
said  it  was  a-going  to  come  to  ihai^  I  should  have 
told  the  Don  that  /  wasn't  one  of  the  sailors  he  was 
looking  out  for." 

"  That's  a  bad  part  of  it,"  said  I,  "  perhaps  the 
worst  part.  But  another  very  bad  part  is  the  con- 
dition of  the  lady.  She  looked  to  me,  as  she  lay 
in  the  cabin,  as  if  she  had  been  very  roughly 
handled." 

The  ugly  cook  put  his  head  out  of  the  galley 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  119 

and  stared  at  us.  I  called  to  him,  in  an  angry 
voice,  to  bear  a  hand  and  get  the  men's  breakfast, 
adding  that  thej  had  been  up  all  night  and  wanted 
the  meal.  "  There's  to  be  no  loafing,  no  skulking, 
now,  d'ye  understand.  We're  too  few  as  it  is,  and 
you're  just  one  of  those  rusty  pieces  of  old  iron 
which  Avant  working  up,  Yankee  fashion ;  so  turn 
to,  d'ye  hear  ? "  and  I  confirmed  my  meaning  by  a 
menacing  inchnation  of  the  head.  The  ugly  rogue 
vanished,  but  I  could  hear  him  muttering  a  number 
of  Spanish  oaths  to  himself. 

"  You  were  speaking  of  the  lady,  sir,"  said 
Butler. 

"  She  looks,"  said  I,  "  to  have  been  rascally  used. 
Her  dress  is  vilely  torn,  as  though  in  a  struggle. 
Her  shoulder  is  badly  scratched,  and  why  should 
she  have  fainted  dead  away,  and  why  should  she 
remain  insensible  for  hours — insensible  still,  for  all 
I  know  ?     For  joy  at  seeing  her  husband  ?  " 

"  She  was  carried  dovra  the  stairs  unconscious 
by  the  two  Spaniards,"  said  Tubb,  "her  clothes  was 
tore  then,  and  her  flesh  was  scratched." 

"  Did  the  Spaniards  mount  the  stairs  alone  ? " 

"  Alone,  sir,"  answered  Butler.  "  Scott  and  me 
stood  over  the  lady's  father  and  his  son  ;  and  South 
and  Tubb  guarded  the  door." 


120     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  Who  remained  in  charge  of  tlie  boat  ? " 

"  Me,"  said  the  man  named  Trapp. 

"The  name  of  the  lady's  father,"  said  I,  "is 
Captain  Noble.  Did  he  say  nothing  more  to  the 
point  than  to  abuse  you  as  pirates  ? " 

"  ISTothing  noticeable,"  answered  Butler  ;  "  his 
wits  seemed  to  be  drove  out  of  him  by  his  rage." 

"I  heard  him  ask,"  said  South,  "how  we,  as 
English  sailors,  could  help  a  scoundrel  Spaniard 
to  steal  an  English  lady  away  from  her  father's 
house  in  England." 

"  Did  he  say  steal  f  "  said  I. 

"  Force  was  the  word  he  used — force  an  English- 
woman  away.  I  didn't  hear  the  word  steal,  George," 
said  Butler. 

"  Is  it  a  fine  house  ? "  said  I. 

"A  regular  gentleman's  castle,  sir,"  answered 
Butler.  "  We  found  the  gates  open  ;  there  was  a 
carriage  with  a  coachman  and  footman  at  the  door ; 
it  was  just  a-driving  off  as  we  marched  in." 

"  What  became  of  that  carriage  % " 

"  I  see  the  coachman  pull  up,"  answered  South, 
"  when  he  was  near  the  gates.  I  kept  my  eye  on 
the  vehicle,  for  there  were  two  men  on  the  box  of 
it.  When  the  lock  was  blowed  away,  the  coachman 
flogged  his  horses,  and  the  whole  concern  disap- 


A  MIDNIGHT  THEFT.  121 

peared.  I  expect  tliey  drove  off  to  give  the  alarm, 
but  where  to,  blowed  if  I  know,  for  there  looked  to 
be  no  houses  for  miles  around." 

"  What  happened  next  ? "  said  I. 

But  what  the  men  now  told  me  substantially 
corresponded  with  Don  Christoval's  story  :  saving 
that  they  were  all  agreed  that  the  lady  was  insensi- 
ble and  in  the  disordered  and  torn  condition  in 
which  she  had  been  brought  aboard  when  carried 
downstairs  by  the  two  Spaniards. 

"  Well,"  said  I,  "  the  schooner's  decks  must  go 
without  a  scrubbing  this  morning.  Hurry  up  that 
cook  and  get  your  breakfast,  Butler,  you'll  re- 
lieve me  at  eight  bells.  I  must  find  out  how  the 
lady  is  doing.  If  she's  to  die — and  as  she  lay  in 
the  cabin  she  looked  as  if  she  were  dying — Don 
Christoval  will  surely  not  want  us  to  sail  him  to 
Cuba." 

"But  where  else?"  said  Butler,  nervously  and 
suspiciously. 

"  To  a  French  port,  if  you  like — to  any  place 
that  is  near.     I  wish  to  get  out  of  this  ship." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Butler,  looking  at  his  mates, 
"  l)ut  we  want  our  money,  Mr.  Portlack,  and  we 
want  to  be  landed  in  some  part  of  the  world  where 
we   aren't   going   to   be  nabbed  for   this  'ere  job. 


122     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

Let  it  be  Cuba,  if  you  please,  sir.  'Tain't  too  far 
off — no,  bj  a  blooming  long  clialk,  'tain't  too  far 
off." 

"  Get  your  breakfast  and  relieve  me  at  eight," 
said  I,  and  I  walked  aft. 


CHAPTER    Y. 

MADAME. 

Don  Cheistoval  remained  out  of  sight  below. 
I  assumed  that  he  was  attending  to  his  wife.  His 
friend  continued  asleep  in  an  arm-chair  near  the 
table  under  the  skylight ;  his  head  was  fallen  back, 
his  mouth  was  wide  open,  and  his  deep  and  power- 
ful snore  was  audible  at  the  distance  of  the  hehn. 
By  and  by  the  negro  boy  Tom  rose  through  the 
companion  hatch. 

"  Where  is  Don  Christoval  ? "  said  I. 

"  In  dah  missus'  cabin,  sah,"  he  answered. 

"  Has  consciousness  returned  to  her  ? " 

He  scratched  his  head  and  answered  that  he  did 
not  understand  me. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  lady  speaking — have  you 
heard  her  voice  ? " 

"  Not  speak,  but  sing,  massa." 

"  Sing  ? "  cried  I,  looking  at  him. 

"Ay,  massa,  hke   dis:"    he  sang  a  few  notes. 


124      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  Her  song  is  all  de  same  as  a  niiss-gal  making  liim 
noisy  pickaninny  go  for  to  sleep." 

He  went  to  the  galley  and  presently  returned 
with  a  tray  full  of  breakfast  things.  Don  Lazarillo 
was  awakened  by  the  negro  lad  laying  the  cloth 
for  breakfast.  I  was  at  the  skylight  at  the  moment 
and  my  eye  was  upon  the  Spaniard.  He  started 
to  his  feet,  delivered  himself  of  a  loud  yawn,  looked 
blankly  around  him  with  the  stujDid  air  of  the 
newly  awakened  ;  the  motions  of  his  body  were 
then  arrested  as  though  he  had  been  paralyzed  ; 
he  listened,  intently  gazing  aft,  continued  to  listen 
while  you  might  count  twenty,  the  expression  of 
his  face  slowly  changing  from  astonishment  to 
terror.  He  then  made  a  stride  and  disappeared 
out  of  the  small  range  of  view  I  commanded.  I 
strained  my  ear  but  caught  nothing  unusual.  He 
has  heard  the  Seilora  del  Padron  singing,  thought  I. 

The  negro  boy  went  again  to  the  galley  and 
once  more  returned  with  a  second  tray  of  dishes  for 
the  table.  I  was  hungry  and  sleepy.  Kest  I 
might  easily  obtain  by  summoning  Butler  aft  to 
keep  a  look-out,  but  I  had  no  notion  of  turning  in 
until  I  had  breakfasted.  I  supposed  that  I  should 
be  expected  to  eat  as  heretofore,  when  Captain  Dop- 
ping  was  alive  in  the  vessel — that  is  to  say,  after  the 


MADAME.  125 

Spaniards  had  left  tlie  table  ;  and  I  was  wondering 
when  Don  Christoval  meant  to  put  in  an  appear- 
ance ;  at  that  moment  he  came  on  deck. 

His  face  was  colorless ;  I  maj  say  it  was  ghastly 
with  what  I  must  term  its  pallor  of  swarthiness. 
The  peculiar  hue  seemed  to  enlarge  his  eyes. 
He  stood  curling  his  mustaches  a  moment  looking 
around  him,  and  then  approached  me  with  a  shallow 
and  unquiet  smile. 

"All  goes  well  with  the  schooner,  I  hojDe,  Captain 
Portlack?"  said  he. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  How  does  the  weather  promise  ? " 

"  The  day  may  keep  fine,  but  I  look  for  wind 
presently." 

"  I  am  going  to  ask  you,"  said  he,  with  a  harsher 
Spanish  or  foreign  intonation  in  his  accent  than  I 
had  ever  before  noticed  in  his  speech,  "  to  be  so 
good,  Senor  Portlack,"  he  raised  his  hat  and  held  it 
a  little  above  his  head,  "  to  waive  your  custom  of 
taking  your  meals  in  the  cabin,"  he  ])ut  his  hat  on. 
"  I  deplore  the  necessity.  You  will  not  regard  it,  if 
you  please,  as  a  violation  of  the  laws  of  hospitality — 
laws  by  which  we  are  eminently  governed  in  our 
country,  Neither  will  you  suppose  that  your  estima- 
ble society  is  not  prized  and  your  professional  help 


126  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

and  attainments  greatly  valued  by  Don  Lazarillo  de 
Tonnes  and  myself.  But — "  He  abruptly  ceased, 
giving  me  nothing  more  to  interpret  than  a  truly 
royal  sweep  of  his  arm. 

"  You  wish  me  to  eat  in  my  own  quarters,  Don 
Christoval  ?  I  shall  be  happy  to  do  so ;  but  I  pre- 
sume I  am  to  be  waited  upon  ? " 

"  Most  undoubtedly,"  he  burst  out.  "  I  entreat 
that  you  will  speak  every  wish  that  may  occur  to 
you.  Your  apartment  shall  be  furnished  from  the 
cabin :  there  shall  be  a  table  and  all  conveniences. 
Tom  will  see  to  you  as  he  sees  to  us.  I  thank 
you  for  your  ready  assent ; "  and  he  gave  me  a 
stately  bow,  raising  his  hat  again. 

I  returned  his  salute  in  the  handsomest  way  I 
could  manage,  and  inquired  after  his  wife. 

"  Oh,  she  will  do,  she  will  do,"  he  answered. 
"  Patience !  the  shock  was  great  and  sudden ;  she 
expected  me  indeed,  but  there  was  nothing  in  ex- 
pectation to  soften  the  agitation  excited  by  my  sud- 
den appearance.  Add  to  this  the  inhuman  behavior 
of  her  father  and  brother,  their  outrageous  violent 
language,  their  grasping  her,"  he  continued,  ad- 
vancing his  arms  and  opening  and  clinching  his 
fingers  as  he  acted  the  part,  "in  the  hope  of  tearing 
her  from   me.     But   patience,    Captain   Portlack." 


MADAME.  12T 

Then   without  another   word   he   returned  to  the 
cabin. 

At  eight  o'clock  Butler  came  to  the  quarter- 
deck. I  gave  him  the  course,  told  him  I  should 
turn  in  for  a  couple  of  hours  after  breakfast,  and 
bade  him  call  me  should  the  wind  shift  ahead,  for 
we  were  in  St.  George's  Channel,  with  the  Irish 
coast  on  one  side  and  the  English  coast  on  the  other, 
and  in  case  of  our  having  to  ratch,  as  it  is  called. 
La  Casandra  would  need  better  piloting  than  But- 
ler was  equal  to.  I  was  about  to  quit  him  when  he 
said  : 

''Beg  pardon,  Mr.  Portlack,  what  might  the 
Don  have  been  a-saying  just  now  ?  "  Then  observ- 
ing my  change  of  expression,  he  quickly  added, 
"  The  question's  asked  quite  humbly,  sir.  The 
lono;  and  short  of  it  is,  we  men  don't  feel  comfort- 
able.  We  want  to  make  sartin  that  there's  to  be  no 
putting  in  to  any  new  port,  and  least  of  all  to  an 
English  port." 

I  feigned  not  to  understand  him. 

"  So  long  as  you  receive  the  money  that  is 
agreed  upon  between  you  and  Don  Christoval  it 
can  not  signify  what  port  we  put  into." 

"  Oh,  but  it  do,  then  !  "  cried  he,  turning  red  in 
the  face.     "  What !     Why,  only  consider !  "  he  con- 


128     ,  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

tinned,  raising  liis  voice  for  the  edification  of  his 
mates  who  stood  listening  forward.  "  Put  into  an 
EngHsh  port  and  see  what  'ud  happen  !  Put  into 
any  civilized  port  and  see  what  'ud  happen !  I 
know  them  Customs  covies.  What  'ud  they  find  ? 
A  lady  in  evening  attire :  us  without  any  sort  of 
yarn  capable  of  satisfying  the  suspicions  we're 
bound  to  raise.  Wliy,  all  hands  of  us  'ud  be  de- 
tained for  investigation,  and  then  !  " 

"You  may  ease  your  mind,"  said  I,  coldly. 
"Don  Christoval  was  merely  talking  to  me  about 
my  breakfast,"  and  going  to  the  main  hatch  I 
dropped  through  it  into  my  quarters. 

Here  I  found  the  furniture  that  had  belonged  to 
Captain  Dopping's  cabin ;  there  were  also  a  little 
table,  a  velvet  arm-chair  from  the  cabin,  and  a  ruar 
such  as  would  be  stretched  before  a  fire-place  lying 
upon  the  deck.  My  quarters,  thus  equipped,  looked 
hospitable  enough.  Indeed,  it  was  to  my  taste  to 
live  thus  apart  It  rendered  me  independent ;  I 
could  do  as  I  pleased,  light  my  pipe,  turn  in  or  turn 
out,  eat  and  drink,  and  come  and  go  with  a  bache- 
lor-liberty that  I  should  not  have  been  able  to  enjoy 
had  I  dwelt  as  Captain  Dopping  had  in  the  cabin. 
The  one  objection  to  my  quarters  lay  in  the  gloom 
of  them.     In  fine  weather  there  was  plenty  of  light 


MADAME.  129 

to  be  obtained  through  the  open  hatch ;  but  in 
stormy  times  the  hatch  must  be  closed,  and  then  I 
should  have  to  live  by  lamp-light, 

A  few  minutes  after  I  had  descended,  the  door 
that  communicated  with  the  cabin  opened,  and  the 
negro  lad  entered  with  my  breakfast.  He  put  the 
tray  on  the  table,  and  stood  as  thougli  expecting  me 
to  question  him. 

"  Is  the  lady  still  singing  ?  "  said  I. 

"  ISTo,  sail,  ebery  ting  quiet  now," 

"  That  will  do,"  said  I,  and  he  went  on  deck 
through  the  main  hatch. 

I  made  a  hearty  meal  and  smoked  a  pipe  of 
tobacco — Captain  Dopping  had  laid  in  a  liberal 
stock  of  pipes  and  tobacco.  I  then  pulled  off  my 
boots  and  coat,  sprang  into  my  hammock,  and  in 
five  minutes  was  as  sound  asleep  as  the  dead.  But- 
ler wakened  me  by  putting  his  head  into  the  hatch 
and  shouting.  I  went  on  deck,  and  found  my  pre- 
diction to  Don  Christoval  of  a  fine  day  disproved. 
The  weather  had  thickened,  the  sky  was  a  wide 
spread  of  shadow,  under  which  a  quantity  of  yel- 
low, wing-like  shapes  of  scud  were  flying  with  a 
velocity  that  might  have  made  you  suppose  it  was 
blowing  a  gale  of  wind.  The  wind  was  damp,  but 
there  was  no  rain.     Blowing  it  was,  but  not  yet 


130     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

hard,  and  Butler  had  given  no  other  orders  than  to 
roll  up  the  topgallant-sail.  The  breeze  was  on  the 
quarter,  about  north-north-west.  Had  we  been  work- 
ing up  against  it  we  should  have  found  it  a  strong 
wind ;  as  it  was,  the  schooner  was  swirling  before 
it  with  every  cloth  set,  saving  the  little  sail  I  have 
mentioned.  A  strong  swell  chased  her,  and  to  each 
hurl  of  the  regular,  giant  undulation  the  vessel 
flashed  along,  burying  her  bows  in  foam  with  the 
next  launching  swoop  in  a  manner  to  remind  you  of 
the  flight  of  a  flying-flsh  from  one  glittering  blue 
slope  of  brine  to  another. 

The  vessel  that  had  been  ahead  of  us  at  day- 
break was  now  on  the  bow  close  to — a  box-shaped 
concern  with  painted  ports ;  she  plunged  heavily, 
and  seemed  to  stagger  again  under  her  heights 
of  canvas,  hke  an  old  woman  whose  balance  is 
threatened  by  the  umbrella  she  holds  up.  Such  a 
sputtering  as  she  made  I  had  never  before  beheld. 
All  about  her  was  white  water  as  she  washed 
through  it ;  it  was  as  though  a  water-spout  were 
foaming  under  her.  Yet  she  held  her  own  stoutly ; 
and,  two  hours  after  I  had  been  on  deck,  she  was 
still  in  sight  in  the  haze  astern. 

I  could  make  no  use  of  Captain  Dopping's  sex- 
tant in  such  weather  as  this.     Don  Lazarillo  was 


MADAME,  131 

walking  the  deck  alone,  swathed  to  the  heels  in  a 
cloak,  and  a  large,  flapping  felt  hat,  drawn  down  to 
his  eyebrows.  He  looked  at  me  askew  as  I  stepped 
his  way  to  glance  at  the  binnacle.  Often  had  I 
met  his  fiery  glance  scanning  me,  but  never  so 
searchingly  as  now.  He  kept  his  eyes  npon  me  as 
I  stood  at  the  compass  watching  the  behavior  of 
the  little  ship  as  she  swept  to  the  heads  of  the  swell. 
"When  I  moved  forward,  he  advanced  with  a  forced, 
deep  grin  which  so  contracted  his  visage  that  it 
looked  no  more  than  a  mat  of  hair  with  a  hooked 
nose  thrust  through  it.  He  saluted  me,  and  I  bowed 
low,  as  was  my  custom  with  these  gentlemen,  and 
the  following  exchange  of  sentences  took  place, 
partly  by  signs,  partly  by  shouts ;  but  the  substance 
of  our  meaning  is  all  that  I  will  venture  to  give. 
It  would  be  impossible  for  the  pen  to  convey  his 
broken  English,  and  as  I  have  not  a  word  of  Span- 
ish, I  dare  not  attempt  to  write  the  sentences  with 
which  he  intermingled  his  English. 

"  It  is  a  very  dark  day." 

"  It  is,"  I  answered. 

"  It  blows  heavily." 

"  No,  Don  Lazarillo,"  said  I. 

"  I  thank  the  Virgin  I  am  not  seasick.     Yet,  the 
sight  of  those  mountains,"  said  he,  pointing  over 


132      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

the  side  with  a  yellow,  jeweled  hand,  "  makes  me 
sensible  that  my  stomach  is  of  the  most  delicate." 

"  By  this  time  you  should  have  grown  accus- 
tomed to  the  motion  of  a  ship." 

"  Yes,  it  is  so.  Might  not  this  dark  day  prove 
fatal  to  us  ? "  Here  he  struck  his  fists  together  to 
denote  a  collision  between  vessels. 

I  shook  my  head  and  touched  my  eyes  and 
pointed  to  the  men  forward,  touching  my  eyes 
again  that  he  might  gather  it  was  the  custom  of 
English  sailors  in  thick  weather  to  keep  a  look-out. 

"  How  long  to  Cuba  ?  "  he  asked. 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders.  "  Is  Don  Christoval 
still  resolved  to  go  to  Cuba  ?  "  said  I. 

"  Yes,"  he  cried  in  Spanish,  in  the  most  passion- 
ate way  that  can  be  imagined,  while  an  expression 
of  dark  suspicion  entered  his  eyes.  "  You  know  the 
way  to  Cuba  ? " 

"  Oh  yes,"  I  answered  smiling. 

He  nodded  wildly  as  though  he  would  say,  "  See 
that  you  carry  us  there,  that's  all !  " 

"  How  is  madame  ? "  said  I,  pointing  to  the  sky- 
light. 

"  Better — better,"  he  replied,  with  a  little  scowl, 
and  then  giving  me  a  bow  he  took  a  turn  or  two 
and  went  below. 


MADAME.  133 

The  wind  freshened  gradually  during  the  after- 
noon, and  when  I  left  the  deck  at  four  o'clock  the 
schooner  was  under  greatly  reduced  canvas,  driving 
alone:  at  eleven  or  twelve  miles  an  hour,  her  decks 
dark  with  damp,  fountains  of  sj^ray  blowing  ahead 
of  her  off  the  high  archings  of  foam  upturned  by 
the  irresistible  thrust  of  her  stem,  a  shrill,  dreary 
noise  of  wind  in  her  rigging,  and  the  fellow  at  the 
helm  and  the  figure  on  the  look-out  forward  gleam- 
ing in  oil-skins  and  sea-helmets. 

All  through  the  night  it  continued  to  blow,  and 
it  blew  all  through  the  three  following  da^^s  and 
niffhts.  At  lonoj  intervals  one  or  the  other  of  the 
Spaniards  appeared  on  deck,  but  for  no  other  pur- 
pose than  to  take  a  hurried  look  round.  Some 
small  theory  of  navigation,  though  utterly  insuffi- 
cient for  practical  purposes,  they  must  have  had  ; 
for,  happening  on  one  occasion  during  this  boister- 
ous time  to  look  through  the  skylight  glass,  I  per- 
ceived them  bending  over  a  chart.  Don  Christoval, 
with  his  forefinger  upon  it,  seemed  to  trace  a 
course,  while  he  glanced  up  in  the  direction  where 
there  hung,  screwed  to  the  upper  deck,  what  is 
known  at  sea  as  a  "  tell-tale  compass,"  that  is,  a 
compass  'whose  face  is  inverted,  usually  fixed  over 
the  captain's  chair,  so  that,  as  he  sits  at  table,  lie 


134:     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

may  perceive  at  a  glance  whether  the  helmsman  is 
holding  the  vessel  to  her  course.  I  stood  watching, 
careless  as  to  whether  the  Spaniards  perceived  me 
or  not.  The  skylight  was  closed,  and  their  voices 
were  inaudible.  Don  Christoval  seemed  to  explain ; 
Don  Lazarillo  measured  :  there  was  much  nodding 
and  gesticulation,  and  they  frequently  looked  from 
the  chart  to  the  "tell-tale  compass."  Presently 
Don  Christoval  rolled  up  the  chart,  and  the  pair  of 
them  withdrew  out  of  reach  of  my  sight. 

I  took  notice  that  when  Mariana  was  not  em- 
ployed at  cooking  in  the  galley,  he  was  aft  below 
in  the  cabin.  I  could  not  imagine  what  sort  of 
work  the  two  Dons  could  find  to  put  the  ugly, 
greasy  rogue  to  in  that  part  of  the  schooner.  I 
now  never  entered  the  cabin,  and  could  do  no  more 
than  conjecture  what  passed  in  it.  Regularly  at 
meal-times,  if  I  happened  to  be  on  deck,  I  would 
peep  through  the  skylight  window,  expecting  to 
find  madame  at  table  ;  and  if  it  happened  that  I 
was  off  duty  when  meals  were  served  in  the  cabin,  I 
would  tell  Butler  to  cast  a  look  through  the  glass 
and  report  to  me  if  he  saw  anything  of  the  lady. 
But  my  curiosity  was  punctually  disappointed  :  the 
lady  remained  invisible. 

It  happened  that,  on  the  evening  of  the  third 


MADAME.  135 

day  of  this  spell  of  dirty  weather,  I  went  below  to 
get  some  supper.  It  was  seven  o'clock,  and  the 
evening  dark  as  midnight  with  the  driving  thick- 
ness in  the  wind  and  the  black  surface  of  cloud 
that  was  stretched  across  the  sky.  As  I  dropped 
through  the  hatch,  pulling  the  piece  of  cover  over  it 
to  keep  the  wet  out  of  my  quarters,  I  observed  a 
glare  in  the  interior,  which  I  very  well  knew  could 
not  proceed  from  the  lamp  that  swung  under  a 
beam  near  my  hammock.  In  fact  that  lamp  was 
unlighted.  Looking  past  the  bulkhead  to  which 
the  steps  by  which  I  descended  were  nailed,  I  found 
that  the  door  which  communicated  with  the  cabin 
stood  open.  The  wind,  though  abaft  the  beam, 
gave  a  decided  "  list  "  or  inclination  to  the  rushing 
fabric,  and  her  rolls  to  windward,  owing  to  the 
swell  being  almost  astern,  were  too  inconsiderable  to 
cause  the  door  to  swing  to. 

The  cabin  was  steeped  in  light ;  the  lamps  were 
large  for  tlie  interior,  and  burned  brilliantly,  and 
their  luster  was  duplicated  and  reduplicated  by  the 
mirrors  which  hung  against  the  side.  Don  Christo- 
val  lay  at  full  length  upon  a  sofa ;  his  hand,  droop- 
ing to  the  floor,  holding  between  its  fingers  an  ex- 
tinguished cigar,  showed  that  he  was  asleep.  Don 
Lazarillo  was  either  on  deck  or  in  his  berth.     The 


136     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

dinner-clotli  was  upon  the  table,  but  cleared  of  its 
furniture,  though  on  a  large  swing-tray  between  the 
lamps  were  one  or  two  decanters  of  wine,  a  plate  of 
fruit,  biscuits,  and  the  like.  But  that  which  in- 
stantly arrested  my  eye  was  the  figure  of  Mariana 
seated  on  a  chair  at  the  after  extremity  of  the 
cabin,  where  stood  two  berths.  He  bestrode  his 
chair  as  a  man  strides  a  horse,  bowing  his  hideous 
face  to  the  back  of  it.  His  posture  assured  me  that 
lie  was  acting  the  part  of  sentinel.  I  stood  viewing 
him.  I  could  see  no  signs  of  the  lady's  presence, 
in  the  shape,  I  mean,  of  apparel,  of  any  detail  of 
female  attire.  I  searched  with  my  eyes  swiftly,  but 
narrowly,  and  encountered  nothing  to  indicate  the 
existence  of  a  woman  on  board.  What  did  I  expect 
to  see  ?  I  know  not,  unless  it  were  something  a 
lady  might  use,  and  leave  on  a  chair  or  a  table — a 
smelling-bottle,  a  glove ;  but  this  does  not  matter. 
I  wished  to  discover  if  madame  had  left  her  berth, 
and  I  found  no  hint  to  inform  me  that  she  had 
done  so. 

But  what  signified  the  presence  of  that  ugly,  I 
may  say  that  loathsome,  sentry  stationed  at  what  I 
might  make  sure  was  the  door  of  the  berth  she  oc- 
cupied ?  By  the  aid  of  the  light  flowing  in  from 
the  cabin,  I  sought  and  found   the   materials   for 


MADAME  137 

lighting  my  own  lamp.  I  then  quietly  closed  the 
bulkhead  door. 

A  little  later  the  hatch  was  lifted,  and  the  negro 
boy  descended  with  my  supper — a  repast  consisting 
of  cold  meat,  biscuit  and  fruit,  and  half  a  bottle  of 
wine. 

"  Where  is  the  cook  ?  "  said  I. 

"  In  de  cabin,  massa." 

"  He  appears  to  live  in  the  cabin.  What  is  he 
doing  there  now,  d'ye  know  ? " 

"  Watching,  sah." 

"Watching  what?" 

"  Dah  lady." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  I,  "  watching  the  lady,  hey  ?  Is  she 
in  her  room  ? " 

"  No,  sah  ;  outside  de  door  ob  it  Dey  has  to 
watch  her,"  said  he,  showing  his  teeth. 

"  Why,  do  yon  know  ?  " 

"  I  heered  the  tall  Don  say  at  breakfiss-time  dat 
she  was  gone  for  mad." 

After  a  pause  I  said,  "  When  did  you  hear  him 
say  this?" 

"  Yesterday  morning,  sah." 

"  To  whom  did  he  say  it  ?  " 

"  To  Mariana,  massa.  T'odder  gentleman  was 
sleeping." 


138      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

I  recollected  that  I  had  watched  Don  Lazarillo 
awaken  from  his  sleep  on  the  previous  morning, 
and  that  I  had  observed  the  expression  of  terror  his 
face  had  taken  when,  as  I  might  now  know,  he 
learned  for  the  first  time,  by  hearing  madame  sing- 
ing, that  she  had  lost  her  mind. 

"  Whj  did  you  not,  before  this  evening,  tell  me 
that  the  lady  was  gone  for  mad,  as  you  call  it  ?  " 

"  Massa  nebber  asked  dali  question." 

"  Have  you  seen  her  ?  " 

"  ]^o,  sail,  and  I  dun  wan'  to.  Her  laugh  make 
my  blood  creep.  It's  wuss  dan  her  singing,  sail. 
Kow  and  agin  she  laugh,  but  now  she  sings  no  mo'." 

"  How  is  she  watched  at  night,  do  you  know  ?  " 

He  twisted  his  hand  to  indicate  the  turning  of  a 
key  in  its  lock,  by  which  I  gathered  that  madame 
by  night  was  locked  up  in  her  cabin. 

"  Is  she  watched  ?  " 

"  Mariana  him  sometime  sleep  and  sometime  sit 
at  her  door.  "When  him  sleep,  den  Don  Christoval 
keep  watch.  When  Don  Christoval  sleep  den  t'od- 
der  gent  keep  watch.  Dey  makes  tree  watches  ob 
it,  sail." 

I  asked  him  how  he  knew  this.  He  answered 
in  his  negro  speech  that  he  had  found  it  out  by 
looking  and  listening. 


MADAME.  139 

"  But  what  are  you  to  find  out  by  listening  ? " 
said  I.  "  You  don't  understand  Spanish,  and  those 
three  men  among  themselves  talk  in  no  other  lan- 
guage," 

"  Mariana,  him  say  to  me  in  de  galley,  '  Tom,' 
him  say,  '  you  look  to  de  sailors'  pudden.  De  mas- 
sa  wan'  me  to  keep  watch  in  de  cabin.'  I  say, 
'  Why  you  no  sleep  now  in  the  fok'sle  ? '  and  he  say 
he  hab  business  in  de  cabin." 

Here  the  boy  ceased  ;  the  poor  fellow  conveyed 
his  meaning  with  difficulty,  yet  I  could  see  his 
face  working  with  the  intelligence  of  an  explana- 
tion which  lay  in  his  brain,  but  which  his  tongue 
wanted  English  to  impart.  That  he  knew  the  lady 
was  watched  by  the  three  Spaniards  in  the  man- 
ner described  bv  him  —  that  is  to  sav,  in  three 
watches,  by  night  at  all  events,  if  not  by  day — was 
certain. 

He  left  me.  I  ate  my  supper,  lighted  a  pipe, 
and  sat  musing.  What  had  driven  the  lady  mad  ? 
One  could  not  put  it  down  to  any  ill-usage  she  had 
met  with  aboard  the  schooner,  because  I  might  cer- 
tainly know  from  the  information  of  the  negro  boy 
that  she  had  awakened  mad  from  the  death -like 
swoon  or  stupor  she  was  plunged  in  when  conveyed 
from  the  boat  into  the  cabin.     Had  her  joy  on  find- 


140     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE, 

ino;  herself  witli  her  husband  ao-ain — the  husband 
of  her  adoration — proved  too  much  for  her  mind  ? 
Had  the  sudden  shock  of  his  apparition — of  the 
apparition  of  Don  Christoval  and  his  six  armed  as- 
sociates— been  rendered  too  enormous  for  her  poor 
brains,  through  the  fearful  significance  it  gathered 
from  the  slaying  of  Captain  Dopping  by  her  father, 
and  by  her  father's  and  brother's  last  rush  and 
strusffle  to  wrest  her  from  the  hands  of  the  two 
Spaniards  ?  But  then  the  sailors  were  all  agreed 
that  she  was  already  insensil)le  when  this  final  rush 
and  struggle  took  place,  that  she  was  borne  down- 
stairs and  carried  out  of  the  house  bleeding  and 
unconscious  as  she  was  when  I  beheld  her  lying  in 
the  cabin.  A  haunting  suspicion  grew  darker, 
stronger,  harder  within  me. 

•  ••••• 

I  was  again  on  deck  at  midnight ;  the  weather 
had  somewhat  moderated,  but  a  strong  sea  was  run- 
ning, through  which  the  schooner,  under  small  can- 
vas, crushed  her  way  in  thunder,  whitening  the 
water  around  her  till  the  black  atmosphere  of  the 
night  about  her  decks  was  charged  with  the  ghastly 
twilight  of  the  beaten  and  boiling  foam.  But  be- 
fore my  watch  expired  the  deep  shadow  on  high 
was  broken  up.     A  few  stars  sparkled,  the  seas  ran 


MADAME.  141 

with  less  weight,  and  the  diminished  breeze  enabled 
me  to  make  sail  upon  the  schooner. 

The  cabin  skylight  was  closed,  and  owing  to  the 
moisture  upon  the  glass  it  was  impossible  to  see 
into  the  interior.  Throughout  the  night  the  lamps 
were  kept  dimly  burning,  and  ardently  as  I  might 
peer,  thirsty  with  curiosity,  I  never  could  distin- 
guish the  movement  of  a  shadow  to  indicate  that 
those  who  occupied  the  cabin  were  stirring  in  it. 

At  four  o'clock  I  went  to  my  hammock,  and  at 
half-past  seven  was  on  deck  again.  It  was  a  line 
clear  morning  ;  large  white  clouds  were  rolling 
over  the  dark  blue  sky,  and  the  sea,  swept  by  the 
fresh  wind  that  hummed  sweet  and  warm  over  the 
quarter,  ran  in  delicate  lines  of  foam,  which  writhed 
and  twisted  in  confused  splendor  in  the  glorious 
wake  of  the  sun  ;  while  westward,  the  surface  of  the 
deej)  resembled  a  spacious  field  lustrous  with  fan- 
tastic shapes  of  frost.  Butler  had  heaped  canvas 
on  the  schooner,  and  she  was  sliding  nobly  through 
the  water.  The  men  had  washed  the  decks  down, 
and  hung  about  waiting  for  their  breakfast.  From 
time  to  time  Mariana's  head  showed  in  the  galley- 
door.  So  far,  aboard  of  us,  there  had  been  no  disci- 
pline to  speak  of.  The  men,  indeed,  acknowledged 
me  as  captain,  and  sprang  to  my  commands  ;  but 


142      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

outside  such  absolutely  essential  duties  as  that  of 
making  and  shortening  sail  and  washing  down  the 
decks  of  a  morning,  nothing  was  done.  The  fel- 
lows would  hang  about  smoking  and  yarning,  al- 
ways ready  indeed  for  a  call,  but  nothing  more. 
Nor,  indeed,  was  it  for  me  to  keep  them  employed. 
I  could  not  accept  this  adventure  seriously — could 
not  regard  the  command  I  had  been  asked  to  take 
as  imposing  any  further  obligation  upon  me  than 
that  of  navigating  the  schooner  to  a  part  of  the 
coast  of  Cuba  adjacent  to  Matanzas,  and  again  and 
again  I  would  ask  myself.  Will  it  ever  come  to 
Cuba  ?  "Will  it  ever  come  to  half-way  to  Cuba  ? 
There  was  an  element  of  unreality  in  the  voyage 
we  were  now  supposed  to  be  pursuing  that  sub- 
mitted it  as  a  mere  holiday  jaunt  to  my  fancy — a 
purposeless  cruise,  rendering  needless  and  aimless 
the  customary  shipboard  routine  of  the  sea. 

While  I  stood  looking  along  the  deck,  Don 
Christoval  arrived.  He  was  haggard  and  blanched, 
as  though  risen  from  a  bed  of  sickness.  The  fire  of 
his  fine  eyes  was  quenched,  and  his  gaze  was  extraor- 
dinarily melancholy  and  spiritless.  He  saluted  me 
gravely,  but  stood  for  some  time  as  though  lost  in 
thought,  meanwhile  taking  a  slow  view  of  the  whole 
compass  of  the  sea,  as  though  in  search  of  some  ob* 


MADAME.  143 

ject  he  expected  to  behold  upon  the  horizon.  I  be- 
lieved he  would  return  to  the  cabin  without  address- 
ing me  ;  but  I  was  mistaken. 

"  Good  morning,  Captain  Portlack." 

"  Good  morning,  sir." 

"The  bad  weather  is  passed,  I  hope.  The 
schooner  is  sailing  very  fast.  It  rejoices  me  to 
reflect  that  every  hour  diminishes,  by  something, 
the  tedious  miles  we  have  to  traverse." 

He  paused,  eying  me  steadfastly,  with  the  air 
of  a  man  soliciting  sympathy.  He  then  beckoned 
to  me  with  one  of  his  grand  gestures  and  went  a  lit- 
tle way  forward,  out  of  the  hearing  of  the  fellow 
who  stood  at  the  tiller. 

"  Captain  Portlack,"  said  he,  "  I  am  in  great 
grief." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it,"  said  I,  looking  at 
him. 

"  My  poor  wife  is  mad." 

"  Mad  !  "  I  echoed,  in  an  accent  of  concern  and 
astonishment,  not  choosing,  by  appearing  aware  of 
the  fact,  that  he  should  suspect  I  had  been  spying 
upon  him  or  making  inquiries. 

"  Mad,"  he  repeated,  in  a  low,  hoarse  voice. 
"  When  she  recovered  from  her  swoon  she  did  not 
know  me.    She  began  to  sing,  she  laughed — Mother 


144  THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

of  God,  a  diabolic  laugh  !  She  is  now  speechless, 
never  lifting  her  eyes,  never  changing  her  counte- 
nance, and  she  sits  thus : "  he  clasped  his  hands 
before  him,  bent  his  head,  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the 
deck,  and  thus  dramatically  represented  her  condi- 
tion for  at  least  a  minute. 

I  sought  in  vain  in  his  voice,  in  his  face,  in  his 
air,  for  some  hint,  some  color,  some  expression  of 
such  grief  of  affection,  of  such  emotion  of  sorrow, 
as  the  love  he  had  spoken  of  as  existing  between 
them  would  naturally  cause  one  to  look  for ;  instead, 
I  seemed  to  find  nothing  but  alarm,  uncertainty, 
irritability,  subdued  by  fear. 

''  We  must  hope,"  said  1,  "  that  she  will  speedily 
recover  her  mind." 

"  Will  you  descend  into  the  cabin  and  see  her  ? " 
said  he,  shortly,  as  though  he  had  talked  this  invita- 
tion over  and  settled  it. 

I  was  slightly  startled,  and  answered,  "What 
good  can  I  do,  Don  Christoval  ? " 

"  You  are  her  countryman,"  said  he ;  "  your 
accent,  that  is  far  purer  than  mine  when  I  discourse 
in  your  tongue,  may  excite  her  attention.  Nor, 
perhaps,  may  it  be  wholly  with  her  as  I  fear." 

"  You  do  not  wish  to  imply  that  she  is  sham- 
ming?" 


MADAME.  145 

He  gesticulated  with  a  fury  that  I  could  not  but 
think  pretended. 

"  No,  no,  poor  girl !  Shamming  indeed  !  God 
defend  me  from  conveying  such  an  idea.  But  will 
you  descend.  Captain  Portlack,  and  see  her  ? " 

"  I  owe  the  preservation  of  my  life  to  you,"  said 
I,  "  and  it  is  my  sincere  desire  to  be  of  use  to  you 
in  any  honest  direction.  But  how  shall  I  serve  you 
by  visiting  niadame,  your  wife  ?  " 

Spiritless  as  his  eyes  were,  the  glance  he  shot  at 
me  as  I  pronounced  these  words  was  as  piercing  as 
I  had  found  his  gaze  when  he  inspected  me  on  my 
first  being  taken  aboard  his  schooner.  He  slightly 
frowned,  wrenched  at,  rather  than  twirled  his  im- 
mense mustaches,  beat  softly  with  his  foot  in  mani- 
fest effort  to  control  himself,  then  said  abruptly : 

"  Will  you  descend.  Captain  Portlack  ?  " 

"  "With  pleasure,"  said  I,  and  I  followed  him  be- 
low, leaving  Butler,  whose  watch  would  not  expire 
till  eight  o'clock,  in  charge  of  the  vessel. 

Don  Lazarillo  was  seated  at  the  cabin  table.  I 
see  him  now  supporting  his  head  on  his  elbow,  his 
bearded  chin  buried  in  the  palm  of  his  hand,  and 
his  finger-ends  at  his  teeth  as  though  he  were  gnaw- 
ing upon  his  nails.     He  was  the  most  perfect  figure 

of  nervous  perplexity  that  could  be  imagined.     He 
10 


146     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

looked  at  me  swiftly,  but  sternly  and  devouringly, 
too,  and  addressed  his  friend  in  Spanish. 

"  Pardon  me,"  I  exclaimed,  before  Don  Chris- 
toval  could  reply,  "  You  know,  gentlemen,  I  do  not 
understand  your  tongue.  This  is  a  strange  and  sad 
affair.  It  will  reassure  me  if  you  converse  in  the 
only  speech  I  am  acquainted  with." 

Don  Lazarillo  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  My  friend  was  merely  expressing  satisfaction 
at  your  visit,"  said  Don  Christoval,  loftily,  yet 
without  hauteur. 

He  turned  to  the  door  of  the  berth  on  the  port 
or  left-hand  side  of  the  schooner,  hesitated  as  though 
conquering  an  instant's  irresolution  of  mind,  then 
turned  the  handle,  motioning  wdth  his  head  that  I 
should  enter. 

The  berth  was  a  small  one.  It  was  comfortably, 
almost  handsomely,  furnished  after  the  style  of  the 
cabin  in  which  the  Spaniards  lived ;  but  I  had  no 
eyes  just  then  for  the  equipment  of  the  box  of  a 
place.  The  morning  sun  shone  full  upon  the  port- 
hole, and  the  little  room  was  hardly  less  brilliant 
with  luster  than  the  cabin  from  which  I  had  stepped. 
In  a  low,  crimson  velvet  arm-chair  was  seated  the 
lady  I  had  been  invited  to  visit.  She  sat  in  the 
posture  that  had  been  theatrically  represented  to  me 


MADAME.  147 

by  Don  Cliristoval.  Her  hands  were  locked  upon 
her  knees,  as  though  she  had  been  suddenly  arrested 
in  the  act  of  rocking  herself  in  a  fit  of  wild  grief ; 
her  head  was  bowed,  and  her  eyes  were  rooted  to  the 
deck.  I  stood  surveying  her  for  some  moments,  but 
she  never  stirred  ;  she  did  not  appear  to  breathe.  I 
did  not  witness  the  least  movement  of  her  eyes, 
whose  lids  were  fixed  as  though,  indeed,  she  were  a 
figure  of  wax.  She  was  dressed,  or  wrapped  rather, 
in  a  ruby -colored  dressing-gown  belonging,  as  I 
might  suppose  by  the  gay  style  of  it,  to  one  of  the 
Spaniards.  The  collar  of  this  gown  came  to  her 
throat.  I  was  unable  to  see  whether  she  was  still 
appareled  in  ball  attire.  Handsome  diamond  drops 
hung  motionless  in  her  ears,  and  her  hands,  from 
which  the  gloves  had  been  removed,  sparkled  with 
rings.  There  were  three  or  four  rings  upon  the  third 
finger  of  her  left  hand,  but  I  did  not  observe  that 
one  of  them  Avas  a  wedding  ring.  Her  hair,  that 
was  of  a  dark  red  and  very  abundant,  was  in  great 
disorder,  but  the  remains  of  the  wreath,  which  I  had 
noticed  on  her  when  she  lay  upon  the  sofa,  had  been 
removed.  The  posture  of  her  head  left  something 
of  her  face  undisclosed ;  what  I  saw  of  it  did  not 
impress  me  as  beautiful.  Her  eyebrows  were  lighter 
than  her  hair,  almost  sandy ;  her  cheeks  and  brow 


148     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

were  colorless  as  marble ;  yet  lier  profile  as  I  now 
witnessed  it  was  not  without  delicacy,  and  I  might 
suppose  that  when  all  was  well  with  her  she  would 
show  as  a  pretty  woman.  She  looked  the  age  Don 
Christoval  had  mentioned — twenty-two.  Her  stat- 
ure I  could  not  imagine,  and  the  dressing-gown 
concealed  her  figure. 

Don  Lazarillo  approached  in  a  tiptoe  walk  and 
stood  in  the  doorway  staring  at  her. 

"My  dear  one,"  said  Don  Christoval,  faintly 
smiling  and  infusing  into  his  accents  a  note  of 
sweetness  I  had  heard  on  more  than  one  occasion 
in  his  voice,  "  I  have  brought  Captain  Portlack  to 
see  you.  He  is  the  captain  of  this  schooner.  He  is 
your  countryman — a  true  Englishman.  Raise  your 
eyes,  my  dear  one,  that  you  may  see  him,"  and  thus 
speaking,  with  grace  inexpressible,  he  bent  his 
fine  form  over  her  and  pressed  his  lips  to  her  fore- 
head. 

Less  of  life  could  not  have  appeared  in  a  statue. 

"  Speak  to  her,"  said  Don  Christoval,  turning  to 
me. 

Behind  us  Don  Lazarillo  ejaculated  in  Spanish. 

"  How  shall  I  address  her  ? "  said  I,  looking  at 
the  tall  Spaniard. 

He  started,  sent  a  glance  of  lightning  rapidity 


MADAME.  149 

at  his  friend,  reflected  a  moment  and  then  said, 
"Accost  her  as  Miss  Noble.  By  that  name  she 
may  remember  herself.  Ay,  senor,  call  her  Ida 
Noble." 

I  bit  my  lip,  and,  planting  myself  by  a  step  in 
front  of  the  lady,  bent  my  knee  till  my  face  was  on 
a  level  with  hers. 

"Look  at  me,  madame,"  said  I.  "I  know  you 
as  Ida  Noble.  Look  at  me.  I  am  your  countryman 
and  yovLY  friend.''^ 

I  pronounced  the  word  "  friend "  with  the  ut- 
most emphasis  I  could  communicate  to  it.  She 
raised  her  eyes  without  altering  the  posture  of  her 
head.  They  were  of  a  soft  brown,  and  the  richer 
for  the  contrast  of  her  hair.  I  never  could  have 
imagined  such  eyes  under  eyebrows  of  so  pale  a 
yellow  as  hers.  She  looked  at  me  during  a  few 
beats  of  the  pulse  steadfastly,  and  then  smiled,  but 
there  was  no  meaning  in  her  smile  or  in  her  regard. 
A  moment  after  she  bent  her  eyes  down  again, 
and  began  to  sing ;  but  the  air  was  without  music ; 
the  words  which  left  her  lips  half  articulated  were 
without  sense. 

"  Yalgame  Dios ! "  cried  Don  Lazarillo. 

She  ceased  to  sing  and  set  her  lips  again,  and 
continued  to  gaze  at  the  deck  without  any  signs  of 


150      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE, 

life,  as  before.  I  rose  to  my  stature,  and,  after 
watching  her  a  while,  said  to  Don  Christoval,  "I 
can  do  no  good." 

"  You  made  her  smile.  Captain  Portlack,"  said 
he,  in  a  soft  whisper. 

I  shook  my  head,  stepped  to  the  door,  and  passed 
into  the  cabin.  The  others  followed,  Don  Christo- 
val closing  the  door  behind  him. 

''  I  believe,  with  patience,"  said  he,  "  that  you 
could  bring  her  mind  back  to  her." 

"  I  am  no  doctor,  gentlemen,"  said  I.  "  I  know 
nothing  about  the  treatment  of  the  insane." 

"  What  do  'ee  say  ?  "  exclaimed  Don  Lazarillo. 

"  What  a  calamit}^  to  befall  me ! "  cried  Don 
Christoval,  clasping  his  hands  and  upturning  his 
face  with  a  look  of  wretchedness  that  certainly  was 
not  counterfeited. 

"  Does  she  eat  and  drink  ? "  said  I. 

"  A  little,  just  a  little,"  he  answered.  "  I  put 
food  in  a  plate  on  her  knee  and  leave  her,  and  when 
I  return  a  little  is  gone." 

"  Should  she  show  no  signs  of  mending,  shall 
you  persevere  in  this  voyage  to  Cuba,  sir  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  he  replied  passionately,  with  a 
gesture  like  a  blow. 

I  paused  to  hear  if  he  had  more  to  say.     Find- 


MADAME.  151 

ing  him  silent,  I  bowed  and  went  on  deck.  Butler 
stood  at  the  rail  abreast  of  the  skylight.  Though 
his  face  habitually  carried  a  sulky  look,  owing  to 
the  sour  expression  into  w^iich  the  extremities  of 
his  mouth  were  curved,  his  was  a  face  to  assure  one 
on  the  whole  that  its  owner  was  a  good  average 
honest  English  sailor.  I  am  not  of  those  who 
believe  that  the  character  is  to  be  read  in  the  face : 
but  my  own  experience  is,  that  I  was  never  yet 
deceived  by  a  man  to  whom  I  had  taken  a  liking 
because  of  his  face.  Yet  I  admit  that  many  honest 
souls,  many  excellent  hearts,  go  through  the  world 
with  repellent  countenances.  Hence  the  unwisdom 
of  judging  by  the  face. 

I  stepped  up  to  Butler,  and  looking  him  in  the 
eyes  I  exclaimed,  "  Butler,  I  believe  we  have  been 
cheated  into  the  commission  of  a  gallows  act  by  the 
lies  of  those  two  Spaniards  down  below  in  the  cabin." 

His  intelligence  was  sluggish,  and  he  looked  at 
me  with  a  gaze  slow  of  perception. 

"  I  have  just  seen  the  lady,"  said  I. 

"  Ha  !  and  how  is  she  a-doing,  sir  ? " 

"  She  is  mad — undoubtedly  driven  mad  by  the 
outrage  that  has  been  perpetrated  upon  her  and 
hers." 

"  Tom  was  saying  she  was  off  her  head,  and  why, 


152  THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE, 

'cause  lie  heard  her  sing  and  laugh.  Singing  and 
laughing  ain't  no  sign  of  madness.  I  asked  Mariana 
the  question  plain,  and  he  says  '  No '  to  it — '  No,'  in 
the  hearing  of  us  all ;  but  now  you've  seen  her,  sir, 
and  she  is  mad  ? " 

"  She  is  utterly  mad.  Mad  as  from  a  broken 
heart.     She  sits  like  a  figure-head,  without  a  stir." 

I  paused.  "  She  is  no  more  Don  Christoval's 
wife  than  I  am,"  said  I. 

"  Are  you  sure  of  that  ? "  he  cried,  sharply. 

"  I  have  been  almost  sure  of  it  for  some  time — 
I  am  quite  sure  of  it  now." 

He  looked  as  alarmed  as  a  man  with  strong 
bushy  whiskers  and  a  skin  veneered  with  mahogany 
by  the  weather  could  well  appear.  "  How  have  ye 
made  sure,  Mr.  Portlack  ?  " 

"  She  has  no  wedding  ring." 

He  chewed  upon  this  and  then  said :  "  But  a  wed- 
ding ring  ben't  no  infallible  sign  of  marriage,  is  it, 
sir  ?  I've  heered  my  mother  say  that  she  once  lost 
her  wedding  ring  and  was  always  going  to  buy 
another,  but  didn't,  and  for  years  she  went  without 
a  wedding  ring,  though  father  was  alive  most  of  the 
time,  and  a  perticlar  man,  too." 

"  If  the  lady  below  were  a  married  woman  she 
would  wear  a  wedding  ring,"  said  I. 


MADAME.  153 

"Ay,"  said  he,  with  a  knowing  look  entering 
his  eyes,  "  but  suppose  the  father  had  obhged  the 
lady  to  take  her  wedding  ring  off?  What  more 
natural,  seeing  how  he  was  all  agin  the  marriage  ? " 

To  this  I  could  return  no  other  answer  than  a 
shake  of  the  head.  He  eyed  me  with  a  small  air  of 
triumph. 

"  If  there's  nothing  more  to  make  ye  doubt,  Mr. 
Portlack,"  said  he,  "than  the  want  of  a  wedding 
ring  on  the  lady's  linger,  I'm  for  allowing  that  the 
Don's  yarn's  true." 

As  I  had  nothing  more  than  suspicion  to  oppose 
to  his  desire  to  believe  in  the  story,  I  contented  my- 
self with  saying  :  "  You  will  find  that  I  am  right, 
nevertheless.  I  shall  go  and  get  some  breakfast, 
and  will  relieve  you  in  ten  or  twelve  minutes." 

I  walked  to  the  main-hatch,  but  he  followed  me. 
"  Supposing  it  as  you  say,  sir,"  he  inquired,  "  what 
'ud  be  the  consequences  of  the  job  to  us  men?" 

"  Transportation  for  life." 

He  muttered  something  under  his  breath  and 
then  said,  "  And  supposing  the  lady  to  be  his  lawful 
wife,  sir  ? " 

"  I  am  no  lawyer,"  I  answered,  and  dropped 
through  the  hatch. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A    TKAGEDY. 

I  WAS  prepared  to  find  that  Butler  had  carried 
my  words  forward.  I  returned  to  the  deck  after 
breakfast,  and  the  man  trudged  to  the  forecastle,  and 
not  long  afterward  I  observed  the  four  seamen,  the 
fifth  being  at  the  helm,  engaged  in  earnest  conver- 
sation. They  talked,  pipe  in  mouth,  their  hands 
deep  buried  in  their  capacious  breeches  pockets,  and 
sometimes  they  talked  with  their  backs  upon  one 
another,  and  sometimes  they  would  pace  the  deck, 
passing  one  another,  but  always  talking,  and  fre- 
quently they  directed  their  eyes  aft,  insomuch  that  I 
expected  every  minute  that  the  whole  group  would 
approach  me  and  oblige  me  to  share  in  the  discus- 
sion. 

My  manner  and  my  words  when  I  had  visited 
madame  below  had  been  altogether  too  pronounced 
for  so  shrewd  an  intelligence  as  that  of  Don  Cliris- 
toval  to  miss  the  true  meaning  of.     In  short,  I  had 


A  TRAGEDY.  155 

as  good  as  said  that  I  did  not  consider  the  lady  to  be 
his  wife ;  that  she  had  been  abducted — ferociously 
and  inhumanly  stolen  from  her  father's  home,  and 
that  we  Englishmen  who  formed  his  crew  had  been 
betrayed  into  an  act  of  criminal  villiany  by  his  ras- 
cally lies.  All  this  I  was  conscious  I  had  as  good  as 
said,  because,  meaning  it,  I  had  looked  it,  and,  in  a 
sentence,  I  had  suggested  it.  I  therefore  concluded 
that  the  two  Spaniards  would  talk  this  matter  of  my 
suspicions  over,  decide  upon  some  prompt  course  of 
action,  and  come  to  me  on  deck — but  what  to  do  and 
what  to  say?  Would  Don  Christoval  admit  the 
adventure  to  be  one  of  abduction,  pleading  the 
necessity  of  representing  himself  as  married  that  he 
might  obtain  the  assistance  of  English  seamen,  sinc'e 
it  was  clear  that  he  would  not  ship  Spanish  sailors 
for  the  expedition  ;  or  would  he  approach  me  with 
threats,  defying  me  to  disprove  his  statement  that 
the  lady  below  was  his  wife,  and  giving  me  to  under- 
stand that  if  I  did  not  mind  my  own  business 

My  mind  was  raml)ling  in  speculations  of  this 
kind  when  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  guitar  and  a  voice 
singing.  The  skyliglit  lay  open  ;  I  heard  it  as  dis- 
tinctly as  though  I  were  in  the  cabin.  Don  Laza- 
rillo  sat  smoking  at  the  table,  keeping  time  with  his 
fingers,  the  rings  upon  them  sparkling  as  he  tapped. 


156     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

It  was  not  he  who  was  playing  the  guitar  and  sing- 
ing ;  therefore  it  was  Don  Christoval.  The  sounds 
came  from  the  after-part  of  the  interior^  and  I  had 
no  doubt  whatever  that  madame's  door  was  open^ 
and  that  Don  Christoval  was  touching  the  strings 
and  lifting  up  his  voice  with  some  quite  superstitious 
or  quite  rational  hope  of  exorcising  the  demon  of 
madness  out  of  the  girl  by  the  bewatching  music  he 
was  making. 

Bewitching  it  was.  I  listened,  wholly  fascinated 
by  it.  His  voice  was  a  clear,  sweet,  most  thrilling 
and  lovely  tenor,  soft  and  yet  penetrating,  and  con- 
trolled, so  far  as  I  could  possibly  judge,  by  the  most 
exquisite  art.  Whether  he  had  ever  before  pro- 
duced his  guitar  I  can  not  say ;  certainly  this  was 
the  first  time  I  had  heard  the  sound  of  it.  He  sang 
several  airs;  one  of  them  so  haunted  me  that  I 
remember  long  afterward  humming  it  over  to  a 
friend  of  mine  who  was  a  very  good  musician  in  his 
way,  and  he  instantly  pronounced  it  a  composition  of 
Mozart,  giving  it  an  Italian  name  which  I  have  for- 
gotten. I  should  never  have  supposed  that  music 
possessed  the  magic  claimed  for  it  until  I  heard  that 
sweet,  thrilling  tenor  voice,  threaded  by  the  tones 
of  the  delicately-touched  guitar.  The  songs  in  suc- 
cession wrought  a  fairy  atmosphere  for  ihe  senses. 


A  TRAGEDY.  157 

The  schooner  melted  out — the  ocean  vanished.  I 
was  transported  to  a  land  sweet  with  the  aroma  of 
the  orange  grove^  romantic  wdth  Moorish  palaces, 
melodious  with  the  laughter  of  dancers  and  the 
merry  rattle  of  the  castanets. 

Bless  me,  thought  I,  as  I  paced  the  deck  afresh 
when  the  singing  was  ended,  a  man  need  not  go  to 
sea  to  visit  distant  countries  when  he  may  travel 
farther  than  sail  or  steam  can  convey  him  by  sitting 
at  home  and  listening  to  a  tenor  voice  accompanied 
by  a  guitar. 

Half  an  hour  later  the  two  Spaniards  made  their 
appearance.  I  had  marked  the  hideous  cook  steal 
to  the  companion-way,  and  judged  that  he  was  keep- 
ing watch.  The  two  Dons,  with  lighted  cigars  in 
their  mouths,  walked  the  deck  arm-in-arm.  Don 
Christoval  seemed  to  notice  that  the  men  forward 
were  observino;  him  with  unusual  attention.  I 
assumed  this  because  I  perceived  that  he  suddenly 
put  on  an  air  of  carelessness,  of  ease,  even  of  gayety, 
such  as  certainly  was  not  visible  in  him  wdien  he 
first  showed  himself.  This  air  I  further  remarked 
was  swiftly  copied  by  his  companion,  but  on  Mm  it 
sat  with  a  horrible  awkwardness.  He  had  neither 
the  figure,  the  beauty,  nor  the  skill  to  act  as  his 
friend  did. 


158  THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

Would  Don  Christoval  cliallenge  me  for  my  sus- 
picions ?  If  so,  I  should  be  honest  with  him  ;  tell 
him  in  unmistakable  English  what  my  conviction 
was ;  inform  him  that  I  would  no  longer  share  in 
the  dastardly  crime  into  which  he  had  betrayed  his 
sailors ;  and  insist  that  I  should  be  transshipped  to 
the  first  vessel  that  passed,  or  that  I  should  be  suf- 
fered to  carry  the  schooner  close  enough  to  a  coast, 
the  nearest  at  hand,  to  enable  me  to  get  ashore.  It 
was  likely  enough  that  my  full  mind  showed  in  my 
face.  A  few  times  I  caught  him  eyeing  me  askance, 
but,  beyond  calling  out  some  commonplace  to  me 
about  the  weather,  the  progress  of  the  schooner, 
and  so  forth,  he  said  nothing. 

It  was,  however,  clear  to  me  that,  let  his 
thoughts  be  what  they  would,  he  could  say  nothing. 
I  was  the  only  navigator  aboard  the  vessel ;  he  was 
entirely  at  my  mercy,  therefore ;  he  would  rightly 
fear  that  any  menaces,  any  bullying,  any  tall-talk, 
must  only  result  in  causing  me  to  sullenly  throw 
up  my  command ;  in  which  case  the  schooner  would 
be  but  a  little  less  helpless  than  were  she  reduced 
to  the  condition  of  a  sheer  hulk  by  a  gale  of  wind. 

At  noon  I  took  an  observation.  Butler  came  aft 
to  relieve  me,  and  I  went  to  my  quarters  to  work  out 
my  sights.     When  I  had  worked  out  my  sights  and 


A  TRAGEDY.  159 

found  out  the  position  of  the  schooner  on  the  cliart, 
1  liglited  a  pipe  and  sat  down  to  reflect.  I  was  now 
so  perfectly  sure  that  the  unhappy  young  lady  in 
the  cabin  had  been  kidnapped  that  my  thoughts 
were  never  for  an  instant  influenced  by  the  consid- 
eration that  there  might  be  a  probability  of  the 
Spaniard's  story  proving  true.  Everything  pointed 
to  this  expedition  as  an  adventure  of  abduction. 
The  sailors  affirmed  that  the  girl  was  bleeding  and 
insensible  when  carried  through  the  hall  past  the 
room  in  which  two  of  them  with  drawn  cutlasses 
were  guarding  her  father  and  brother.  This,  then, 
signified  that  she  had  been  forcibly  seized^  and  the 
state  of  her  apparel  and  the  scratches  upon  her 
shoulder  proved  that  there  had  been  a  struggle. 
"Would  she  have  struggled  had  Don  Christoval  been 
her  husband,  to  whom  she  was  yearning  to  be  re- 
united ? 

My  blood  felt  hot  in  my  veins  when  I  thought 
upon  this  outrage ;  when  I  reflected  how  I  had 
been  made  a  party  to  this  deed  of  villainy ;  how  I, 
as  an  Englishman,  had  been  courted  by  a  cunning, 
clever  lie  to  abet  the  stealing  of  a  countrywoman 
of  my  own  from  her  father's  home  in  England  by 
a  brace,  as  I  might  take  them,  of  unprincipled 
Spanish  adventurers. 


160     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

Now,  wliile  I  thus  sat  musing  over  m.j  position, 
and  considering  what  course  to  shape  to  carry  me 
clear  of  the  dangerous  association  into  which  misad- 
venture had  brought  me,  I  was  startled  by  a  cry  in 
the  adjacent  cabin — a  cry  sharp^  abrupt,  terrible : 
affecting  the  ear  as  a  lightning  flash  affects  the  eye. 
The  pipe  I  was  about  to  raise  to  my  lips  was  ar- 
rested midway.  I  believe  I  am  no  coward,  yet 
I  must  own  that  that  cry,  that  penetrating  cry, 
seemed  to  thicken  my  blood,  seemed  to  stop  the  pul- 
sation of  my  heart. 

But  the  pause  with  me  was  brief.  I  dashed 
down  my  pipe,  sprang  to  the  bulk-head  door  and 
flung  it  open.  And  now  what  a  picture  did  I  see  ! 
The  tall,  commanding  figure  of  Don  Christoval  was 
in  the  act  of  sinking  to  the  deck ;  his  hand  was 
upon  the  table,  but  the  fingers  were  slowly  slip23ing 
from  the  edge  of  it,  and,  even  as  I  looked,  the  man 
without  a  sound  fell  at  his  length  and  lay  motion- 
tionless.  In  the  doorway  of  the  port  or  left-hand 
berth  stood  the  lady  whom  I  have  heretofore  styled 
Madame,  but  whom  I  will  henceforth  call  Ida 
Noble.  She  grasped  a  knife  in  her  hand — a  long 
carving  knife  it  seemed  to  me,  and  I  remember  no^ 
ticing  a  red  gleam  in  it  as  the  vessel  rolled,  slipping 
the  sunshine  out  of  a  mirror  toward  where  the  gir] 


A  TRAGEDY.  161 

was.  Slie  stood  erect,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
body  of  the  Spaniard  ;  she  was  as  stirless  as  he  ; 
tlie  figures  of  them  both  at  that  instant  might  have 
passed  as  a  brace  of  posture-makers  representing  a 
tragedy  in  one  of  those  drawing-room  performances 
called  tableaux  vivants.  Behind  a  chair  on  the 
starboard  side  of  the  table  crouched  the  figure  of 
Mariana.  He  squatted,  and  his  attitude  was  exactly 
that  of  a  monkey.  His  face  was  green  ;  his  wide- 
open  eyes  disclosed  twice  the  usual  surface  of  eye- 
ball ;  his  features  were  convulsed  with  terror,  and 
nevef  yet  was  there  an  artist  whose  imagination 
could  have  reached  to  the  height  of  that  fellow's 
hideousness,  as  he  crouched,  stabbed  also,  as  I  then 
believed,  though  this  was  not  so. 

A  mad  woman  grasping  a  long  knife  is  a  for- 
midable object ;  much  more  formidable  is  she  when 
that  knife  is  stained  with  blood,  and  when  the  per- 
son she  has  slain  is  still  in  view,  lying  a  corpse  a 
little  distance  away  from  her.  On  my  showing  my- 
self, Mariana  cried  out,  but  whether  in  Spanish  or 
English  I  knew  not.  "What  was  I  to  do  ?  "What 
would  you  do  were  you  suddenly  confronted  by  a 
mad  woman  armed  with  a  long  knife?  I  looked 
up  at  the  skylight  and  saw  the  horror-stricken  coun- 
tenance of  Don  Lazarillo  peering  down ;  but  even 
11 


162  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE, 

as  my  eye  went  in  a  glance  to  the  Spaniard's  livid 
face,  one  of  the  sailors,  and  then  another  of  the  sail- 
ors, came  to  his  side.  Count  twenty,  and  the  time 
you  will  occupy  in  doing  so  will  comprise  the 
period  from  the  moment  of  my  opening  the  door 
to  look  out  down  to  this  instant. 

Next  moment  the  girl  threw  the  knife  on  the 
deck  with  a  gesture  of  abhorrence,  courtesied  with 
irony  to  the  body  of  Don  Christoval,  and  closed  the 
door  of  the  berth  upon  herself.  Then  there  was  a 
rush.  We  could  all  find  our  courage  now.  Mari- 
ana sprang  from  behind  his  chair,  overturning  it,' 
Don  Lazarillo,  followed  by  the  two  sailors,  came  in 
a  few  bounds  through  the  companion-hatch.  I 
stepped  to  the  side  of  Don  Christoval's  body,  and 
stood  looking  upon  liim.  Stone  dead  I  knew  him 
to  be.  In  Calcutta  during  a  cholera  outbreak,  and 
on  board  an  emigrant  ship  visited  with  fever,  I  had 
many  a  time  stood  beside  the  dying  and  the  dead, 
and  the  spectacle  of  death  was  very  familiar  to  me. 

"  Lock  her  door  !  "  shrieked  Don  Lazarillo. 

One  of  the  seamen  picked  up  the  knife  and 
viewed  it  at  arm's  length.  I  carefully  turned  the 
body  over. 

"Ay,  there  it  is,"  said  I,  pointing  to  a  cut 
slightly  stained  with  blood  in  the  Spaniard's  waist- 


A  TRAGEDY.  163 

coat.  The  wound  was  in  the  left  ribs,  and  one  had 
but  to  glance  at  the  knife  to  cease  to  wonder  that 
the  man  should  have  dropped  dead. 

"  Lock  the  door !  "  again  shrieked  Don  Lazarillo 
in  his  broken  English,  looking  from  the  body  of  his 
friend  to  the  door,  and  from  the  door  to  the  body 
of  his  friend,  and  recoiling,  and  shrinking  and  hug- 
ging himself,  and  so  munching  his  lips  that  one 
watched  to  see  froth  upon  them — doing  all  this  as 
he  looked. 

Mariana  repeatedly  crossed  himself,  uttering  all 
sorts  of  Spanish  ejaculations  in  a  voice  like  the  sub- 
dued low  of  a  calf. 

"  Is  he  dead,  sir  ? "  asked  one  of  the  sailors. 

"  He  can  never  be  more  dead,"  said  I,  stooping 
to  look  into  the  face  of  the  body.  "They  drove 
her  mad,  and  this  is  how  she  requites  them.  A 
cruel,  Ijloody  business,  my  lads.  Fling  that  knife 
overboard." 

The  fellow  launched  it  javelin-fashion  through 
an  open  porthole.  Don  Lazarillo  began  to  scream 
out  in  Spanish.  His  meaning  might  have  some 
reference  to  securing  the  lady  ;  I  do  not  know. 

"  Silence  !  "  I  roared.  "  Do  you  want  to  be  the 
next  victim  ? "  and  in  my  wratli  I  made  an  infuri- 
ate gesture  as  of  stabbing;  on  which,  with  one  wild 


164  THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

look  at  me,  he  fled  up  the  companion  steps  and  re- 
mained above,  viewing  us  through  the  skyhght, 

Butler  and  another  seaman,  both  very  pale,  and 
fetching  their  breath  quickly,  entered  the  cabin  and 
looked  at  the  body. 

"  Here's  a  murdering  job  to  happen ! "  said 
Scott. 

"  "Who's  done  this  ? "  cried  Butler,  who  had 
been  somewhere  forward  when  Don  Christoval's 
wild  death-shriek  had  sounded. 

Mariana,  with  a  paralytic  gesture,  pointed  to 
Miss  Noble's  berth. 

"  Who's  done  it  ? "  rej)eated  Butler,  in  a  voice 
strong  and  hoarse  with  horror. 

"  The  girl  whom  these  Spaniards  have  driven 
mad,"  said  I.  I  turned  to  Mariana.  "  Did  you  see 
Don  Christoval  stabbed  ? " 

"  Ah,  Dios  !  yes,"  he  answered ;  and  in  lan- 
guage which  is  to  be  as  little  conveyed  as  his  voice, 
or  the  expressions  which  chased  his  face,  which  at 
every  instant  gave  a  new  character  to  his  ugliness, 
he  contrived  to  make  us  understand  this :  that 
Don  Christoval  had  entered  the  lady's  room,  where 
he,  Mariana,  heard  him  address  her  soothingly; 
that  the  door  was  suddenly  flung  open,  and  that, 
at  the  same  moment,  even  as  the   Spaniard  stood 


A   TRAGEDY.  165 

on  the  threshold,  the  girl  buried  the  knife  in  his 
side. 

"  How  did  she  come  by  the  knife  ? "  cried  Butler. 

Mariana,  trembling  violently,  wath  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  door  of  Miss  Noble's  berth,  as  though  at 
every  moment  he  expected  to  behold  it  thrown 
open,  made  us  understand  that  the  negro  boy,  some 
time  during  the  morning,  had  left  a  basket  of  the 
cabin  cutlery  upon  the  table,  and  that  the  girl  must 
have  looked  out  and  possessed  herself  of  a  knife  at 
some  moment  when  the  two  Spaniards  were  on 
deck,  and  when  he — Mariana — had  quitted  his  post 
of  sentry  to  enter  Don  Christoval's  berth.  This 
was  conjecture  on  the  fellow's  part,  but  beyond 
doubt  it  was  accurate. 

Don  Lazarillo  continued  to  gaze  at  us  through 
the  skylight  with  an  expression  as  of  a  horrible 
sneer  upon  his  face.  I  again  stooped  over  the  form 
of  Don  Christoval,  felt  his  pulse,  and  examined  his 
half -closed,  fast-glazing  eyes,  then  bade  a  couple  of 
the  seamen  pick  the  body  up  and  convey  it  to  the 
cabin  the  Spaniard  had  occupied.  While  this  was 
doing,  I  grasped  the  handle  of  the  door  of  Miss 
Noble's  room. 

"Mind!"  shrieked  Don  Lazarillu  from  above. 
Mariana  ran   on  deck.     I  felt  the  idleness  of  an- 


166     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

nouiicing  myself  by  knocking.  More  knives  than 
one  it  was  possible  slie  might  have  concealed ;  I 
therefore  at  first  held  the  door  but  a  little  way  open 
and  looked  in. 

The  girl  was  standing  beside  the  bunk  or  sleep- 
ing-shelf ;  her  elbows  were  upon  the  edge  of  it,  her 
cheeks  in  her  hands,  and  she  stood  motionlessly 
gazing,  as  I  might  suppose,  through  the  port-hole. 
She  was  robed  as  in  the  morning  ;  that  is  to  say,  in 
a  crimson  dressing-go^vn,  which,  in  that  era  of  short 
skirts,  clothed  her  to  her  heels.  She  was  but  a  lit- 
tle above  the  average  stature  of  woman,  though  she 
had  looked  far  taller  than  she  really  was  when  she 
stood  in  the  doorway  grasping  the  knife,  with  her 
eyes  upon  the  dead  Spaniard, 

Finding  her  unarmed,  I  entered,  carefully 
sweeping  the  room  as  I  did  so  with  my  eyes  for 
any  signs  of  a  knife  or  other  weapon.  Tiie  four 
seamen  stood  in  the  doorway,  and  she  did  not  turn 
her  head.  I  approached  her,  keeping  a  distance 
of  some  two  or  three  feet  between  us,  and  prepared, 
poor  lady !  for  any  act  of  violence.  Still  she  con- 
tinued to  stare  through  the  port-hole. 

"  Miss  Noble,"  said  I,  "  you  smiled  at  me  this 
morning.  Look  at  me  now.  You  will  remember 
me  as  your  friend." 


A  TRAGEDY.  167 

She  turned  lier  head  slowly ;  not  more  mechani- 
cal could  have  been  that  extraordinary  movement 
had  clock-work  produced  it.  When  her  soft  brown 
eyes — in  which  assuredly  I  witnessed  nothing  of 
that  sparkle  or  fire  of  madness  which  is  said  to 
burn  in  the  vision  of  the  insane — were  upon  me, 
she  frowned  and  bit  her  under  lip,  exposing  her 
small  white  front  teeth.  I  beheved  from  her  ex- 
pression that  she  was  struggling  with  her  memory. 
She  then  suddenly  turned  fully  round,  as  though 
sensible  of  being  watched  from  the  door,  and  the 
sailors,  to  the  wild  look  she  gave  them,  stirred  and 
fell  back  with  uneasy  shuiHing  motions  of  their  feet. 
She  stared  at  them  for  a  while,  and  afterward  at 
me,  preserving  her  frown,  and  holding  her  lip  under 
her  teeth ;  she  was  deadly  white,  but  spite  of  her 
frown,  which  you  would  have  thought  must  give 
an  expression  of  disdain  or  anger  or  contempt  to 
her  brow,  her  face  was  meaningless,  Slie  eyed  me 
fixedly  for  some  moments,  then,  with  the  former 
slow  motion  of  her  head,  resumed  her  first  posture. 
I  stepped  to  the  door. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ? "  said  I. 

"  It's  a  cruel  business.  The  Spaniard's  been 
rightly  sarved  out,"  exclaimed  one  of  tlie  sailors. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  "  I  repeated;  for  here,  to 


168      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

be  sure,  was  a  condition  of  ocean  life  tliat  had  never 
before  been  encountered  by  my  experience. 

The  men  gazed  at  the  girl  in  silence.  I  mused, 
and  presently  said,  "  One  of  you  keep  this  door ; 
the  rest  of  us  must  turn  to  and  search  the  cabin,  to 
make  sure  there  is  nothing  in  it  with  which  she  can 
hurt  herself." 

There  were  four  of  us,  and  there  being  little  to 
examine,  we  had  soon  satisfied  ourselves  that  there 
was  no  weapon  anywhere  hidden.  She  took  not 
the  least  notice  of  us  ;  but  when  I  explored  her 
sleeping-berth,  upon  whose  edge,  as  I  have  told  you, 
her  elbows  reposed,  she  fell  back  a  step  or  two,  and 
then,  going  to  the  arm-chair,  seated  herself,  clasping 
her  knees  and  rooting  her  eyes  to  the  deck. 

"  Will  she  have  a  knife  about  her? "  said  Butler, 
in  a  hoarse  whisper. 

I  thoroughly  considered  this,  and,  after  a  nar- 
row scrutiny  of  her,  decided  that  she  had  not  con- 
cealed a  knife  upon  her,  and  I  was  the  more  wilHng 
to  believe  so  because  I  had  not  the  heart — I  will 
not  say  the  courage — to  search  her.  It  shocked  me 
to  think  of  offering  any  violence  to  the  poor  girl, 
and  violence  I  knew  it  must  come  to — she  would 
resist,  a  struggle  would  increase  her  madness — if  I 
laid  my  hands  upon  her.     But  I  was  certain  she  had 


A  TRAGEDY.  169 

not  concealed  a  knife.  Tlie  dressing-gown  she  wore 
was  ^vitliout  a  pocket.  The  sleeves  were  loose,  and 
while  she  stood  at  the  bunk  I  had  noticed  that  her 
arms,  whose  wrists  were  still  clasped  by  bracelets, 
were  bare,  whence  I  concluded  that  the  dressing-gown 
concealed  the  ball  attire  she  had  been  brought  aboard 
in.  So  I  decided  that  she  had  not  secreted  a  weap- 
on, because,  recollecting  her  attire  as  she  lay  upon 
the  sofa  in  the  cabin  after  she  had  been  broua^ht  to 
the  schooner,  I  could  not  conceive  that  it  offered 
any  points  for  the  concealment  of  a  knife. 

I  closed  the  door  upon  her,  and  we  stood  outside 
consulting.  Our  debate  determined  us  to  this : 
that  while  she  continued  in  this  passive  condition 
she  was  to  be  left  as  she  was ;  that  for  the  present 
the  five  seamen  would  take  it  turn  and  turn  about 
to  watch  that  she  did  not  quit  her  room ;  that  she 
was  to  be  fed  as  heretofore^  that  is  to  say,  food 
and  wine  were  to  be  placed  before  her,  of  which 
she  would  partake  if  she  chose,  for  no  man  could 
compel  her  to  eat.  Then,  no  longer  choosing  that 
the  helmsman  should  remain  alone  on  deck — for 
Don  Lazarillo,  Mariana,  and  the  negro  boy  counted 
for  nothing — I  went  to  the  companion  steps  and 
was  followed  by  Butler  and  two  others. 

Don  Lazarillo  and  Mariana  stood  a  little  way 


170     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

forward  of  the  skylight.  They  conversed,  and 
their  gestures  expressed  unbounded  horror  and  dis- 
may. On  our  appearing,  they  fell  silent  and 
watched  us.  Some  distance  beyond  them  was  the 
figure  of  the  negro  boy.  There  was  nothing  in 
sight.  The  white  canvas  soared  round  and  brilliant, 
and  the  rigging  was  vocal  with  the  gushing  of  the 
blue  breeze.  Astern  of  us  ran  an  arrowy  wake  of 
foam,  and  off  the  weather  bow  rose  a  steady  sound 
of  seething,  like  to  the  noise  made  by  the  boiling 
foot  of  a  cataract  heard  afar. 

I  took  up  a  position  near  the  tiller,  that  was  in 
the  grasp  of  the  seaman  Tubb,  and  the  sailors  stood 
near  me. 

"  What's  happened  below  ?  "  said  Tubb. 

^'  The  tall  Spaniard's  been  stabbed  dead  by  the 
mad  lady,"  answered  South. 

Tubb  delivered  himself  of  a  long  whistle,  fol- 
lowing it  on  by  an  agitated  swing  of  the  tiller  that 
hove  the  schooner  to  the  wind  two  points  before  he 
could  recover  her. 

"  And  now  what  is  to  be  done  ?  "  said  I.  "  You 
see  the  pass  we've  been  brought  into.  Two  men 
dead  of  the  adventure,  and  the  rest  of  us  guilty  of 
a  deed  that  must  earn  us  transportation  for  life 
should  the  law  get  hold  of  us.     "What's  to  be  done, 


A  TRAGEDY.  171 

I  say  ?  Is  this  voyage  to  Cuba  to  be  prosecuted  ? 
Our  duty  is — and  let  me  tell  you  our  policy  is — to 
make  all  the  restitution  that  is  possible,  and  that 
we  can  alone  do  by  conveying  the  poor  lady  home." 

"  I  ain't  going  home,"  cried  Butler  in  a  voice  of 
obstinacy,  smiting  his  thigh. 

Don  Lazarillo  and  Mariana  crept,  or  sneaked 
rather,  by  a  pace  nearer  to  us  and  stood  listening. 

"  And  /  ain't  going  home,"  said  Tubb,  fetching 
the  head  of  the  tiller  a  whack.  "  You  talk  of 
transportation  for  life,  Mr.  Portlack  ;  d'ye  want  it 
to  happen,  sir  ?  " 

"  ]!^ro,"  I  answered  ;  "  but  I  wish  to  do  what  is 
right,  and  to  make  it  as  right  as  right  can  be  by 
doing  it  quickly.  The  lady  must  be  restored  to 
her  friends." 

"  JSTo  oiEfense,  Mr.  Portlack,"  said  Scott,  "  but  we 
aren't  to  forget  that  you're  on  the  right  side  of  the 
liedge.  You  wasn't  in  the  melhee ;  we  was.  Your 
going  home  can't  sinnify  ;  ourn  means  lagging  for 
all  hands." 

The  two  Spaniards  sneaked  a  little  closer. 

"  I  wish  to  suggest  nothing  likely  to  imperil 
you,"  said  I.  "  Though  I  was  never  willingly  of 
you — you  don't  want  me  to  tell  you  how  it  happens 
tliat  I'm  here ;  yet  being  of  you,  you'll  find  me  with 


172     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

jou,  content  to  sliare  in  all  tliat  may  befall  you. 
As  to  my  being  on  the  right  side  of  the  hedge," 
cried  I,  rounding  upon  Scott,  "  that's  but  a  notion 
of  yours.  The  lawyers  may  think  very  much 
otherwise.  But  I  say  this,  that  since  these  two 
Spaniards  have  decoyed  our  heads  into  a  noose, 
the  only  way  to  avoid  being  strangled  is  to  whip 
our  heads  out  again  ;  and  d'ye  ask  how  that's  to  be 
done  ?  My  answer  is,  Do  what  is  right.  Act  so 
that  you'll  be  able  to  say,  should  you  come  to  be 
charged  as  helpers  in  this  crime  of  abduction : 
"We  believed  the  lady  to  be  the  Spaniard's  wife  ;  we 
were  told  that  a  man  had  a  right  to  his  own,  and 
we  were  willing  to  help  him  to  his  own,  but  the 
moment  we  found  we  had  been  deceived  we  turned 
to  like  honest  men,  to  make  all  the  amends  in  our 
power  by  restoring  the  poor  lady  to  her  friends. 
That  is  what's  in  my  head,  and  it  is  the  advice  I 
give  you,  and  wish  you  to  act  upon  for  my  sake  and 
for  yours." 

South  looked  thoughtfully  at  Butler ;  but  Butler, 
with  an  angry  countenance,  vengefully  smiting  his 
thigh  again  with  his  clinched  fist,  cried  out, 
"  There's  to  be  no  going  home  with  me.  There's 
to  be  no  taking  the  chance  of  the  law  with  me. 
There's  to  be  no  risking  even  a  week  o'  jail  with 


A   TRAGEDY.  173 

me.  Ye  may  call  it  Cuba,  or  ye  may  call  it 
Madagascar,  but  let  no  man  speak  of  the  United 
Kingdom.  I've  got  my  liberty,  and  I'm  for  keep- 
ing of  it.  'Sides,"  he  whipped  out,  "  who's  going 
to  pay  me  my  money,  now  the  Spaniard  as  hired  us 
is  dead  and  gone  1 " 

The  eyes  of  the  men  at  this  were  at  once  bent 
upon  Don  Lazarillo. 

"  Sooner  than  go  home  I'd  start  away  in  that 
there  boat,"  said  Scott,  pointing  to  the  cutter  on 
the  main  deck,  "  and  take  my  chance  of  making  the 
land  or  being  picked  up.  I  once  had  a  fortnight  of 
quod  for  refusing  to  sail  after  joining.  That  was 
enough  for  me.  No  more,  thank  ye."  He  stepped 
to  the  rail  and  violently  expectorated. 

"  "Who's  going  to  pay  us  ? "  said  Trapp.  "  If 
t'others  are  of  my  mind,  there'll  be  no  leaving  this 
schooner  till   we've  received    every  farden  of   our 

money.    We've  earnt  it,  by ! "  he  added,  hitting 

the  tiller  head  another  thump. 

"Mr,  Portlack,"  said  Butler,  gazing  at  me 
gloomily  and  mutinously,  "  you  still  talk  as  if  you 
was  cocksure  that  the  lady  wasn't  the  tall  gent's 
wife." 

I  paused  while  I  gazed  at  him,  then,  with  vehe- 
ment strides,  walked  up  to  Don  Lazarillo. 


174      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  You  and  your  dead  friend,"  I  cried,  staring 
into  the  slirinking  and  working  face  of  the  man, 
"  have  cheated  me  and  the  men  here  by  your  hes 
into  the  commission  of  a  crime.  You  know,"  I 
thundered,  determined  to  terrorize  him  into  a  con- 
fession of  the  truth,  "that  the  poor  lady  below, 
whom  you  have  driven  mad,  was  not  Don  Christo- 
val's  wife.  Dare  to  tell  me  she  was,  you  villain, 
and  I'll  fling  you  overboard !  " 

"  What  ees  it  you  say  ? "  he  cried,  with  his 
swarthy  face  of  the  color  of  pepper  with  fear. 

"  You  understand  me  ! "  I  shouted,  addressing 
Mariana.  "  You  have  been  in  the  secret,  too, 
from  the  beginning.  Own  it,  you  dog,  own  it,  or 
I'll  throttle  you." 

I  raised  my  hand ;  the  ugly  creature  delivered  a 
singular  cry  and  dropped  on  his  knees. 

"  Seiior  Portlack,"  he  whined,  "  spare  my  life, 
for  the  blessed  Yirgin's  sake,  and  if  I  do  not  tell  you 
the  truth  may  Satan  catch  my  soul  now  and  carry 
it  away  to  eternal  torment.  The  seilorita  was  not 
the  cavalier's  wife.  The  caballero's  story  was  true 
in  all  but  that  part.  She  was  the  lady  of  his  love, 
but  not  his  wife.  If  I'm  not  speaking  the  truth, 
may  my  soul  be  tormented  for  ever  and  ev^er." 
Saying  which  he  crossed  himself  and  stood  up. 


A  TRAGEDY.  I75 

The  obligation  of  feigning  wrath  alone  pre- 
served me  from  bursting  into  a  langii  at  the  sight 
of  his  hideous  face  convulsed  with  fear. 

"  Explain  to  Don  Lazarillo,"  cried  I,  sternly, 
"  what  you  have  told  me." 

He  did  so.  Don  Lazarillo  watched  him  with 
sparkling  eyes  and  ashen  cheek,  and  on  his  ceasing 
made  as  if  he  would  strike  him. 

"  Will  you  deny  that  Mariana  speaks  the  truth  ? " 
I  exclaimed. 

The  Spaniard  shot  at  me  a  look  of  mingled 
malice,  hate,  and  fright,  then,  with  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders  that  convulsed  his  figure,  he  turned  his 
back,  and,  with  clasped  hands,  stood  viewing  the 
ocean  over  the  rail. 

"  Now,  men,"  said  I,  addressing  Butler  and  the 
others,  "you  have  heard  the  truth  for  yourselves,  and 
you  may  read  it  also  in  that  Spanish  gentleman's 
behavior.  Isn't  it  abominable  that  we  Englishmen, 
or  let  me  say  that  you  Englishmen,  should  have 
been  tricked  by  the  lies  of  a  brace  of  foreigners 
into  helping  them  to  steal  a  poor  young  lady  of 
your  own  country  from  her  father's  home  %  For 
what  purpose  was  this  done  ?  There  was  little 
enough  love  in  it,  I'll  swear.  She  is  no  doubt  an 
heiress,  and  the  Don  that  lies  dead  below  hoped, 


176      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

by  stealing  her,  to  steal  lier  fortune  also ;  and  you 
may  take  it  that  yonder  gentleman,"  I  continued, 
pointing  at  Don  Lazarillo,  "  entered  upon  this  in- 
human undertaking  as  a  speculation.  That's  my 
notion,  and  if  he  understands  what  I'm  saying,  he 
knows  that  I've  hit  the  truth.  He  was  to  share 
in  the  plunder,  on  condition  of  his  finding  money 
enough  to  equip  this  expedition." 

My  eyes  rested  upon  Mariana  as  I  spoke ;  the 
ugly  rascal,  to  whom  my  words  seemed  perfectly 
intelligible^  let  his  head  sink,  in  an  affirmative 
gesture.  The  wretch,  in  fact,  was  horribly  fright- 
ened, feared  for  his  life,  in  short,  and  by  the  looks 
of  him  I  might  not  only  know  that  he  was  willing 
to  tell  all,  but  to  tell  more  than  all,  to  appease  my 
wrath,  which  I  must  own  was  largely  simulated. 

Butler  stepped  up  to  Don  Lazarillo,  whose  back 
was  still  upon  us,  and  touched  the  man's  elbow 
with  his  forefinger. 

"  Here,"  said  he,  "  what  about  my,money  ? " 

Don  Lazarillo  appeared  deaf,  and  continued  to 
stare  over  the  rail.  Butler  thrust  at  his  elbow  again 
with  his  long  forefinger. 

"  1  am  asking,"  he  said,  "  about  my  money. 
Who's  a-going  to  pay  me  ?  " 

The  other  seamen  now  drew  close  to  the  Span- 


A  TRAGEDY.  177 

iard,  -who  stood  as  tliougli  deaf.  Mariana  rapidly 
and  hoarsely  uttered  a  sentence  or  two  in  Spanish, 
probably  a  translation  of  Butler's  words.  Don  La- 
zarillo  then  whipped  round ;  his  eyes  glowed  like 
live  coals,  but  his  ashy  pallor  was  more  defined  than 
before.  On  finding  himself  confronted  by  the  three 
sailors,  he  placed  himself  in  the  posture  of  a  man  at 
bay  with  a  sword  in  his  hand,  only,  happily,  he  was 
without  a  sword. 

"  What  do  you  want  ? "  he  cried. 

"Who's  a-going  to  pay  us?"  shouted  Butler,  un- 
necessarily exerting  his  lungs,  as  the  custom  is  with 
us  English  when  we  address  foreigners,  whose  in- 
capacity to  understand  seems  to  suggest  deafness  to 
our  insular  minds. 

Don  Lazarillo,  looking  toward  me,  exclaimed, 
"  I  speak  about  dat  wiz  ze  Capitan  Portlack." 

"  Ay,"  cried  Scott,  "  but  if  you  can  talk  to  him, 

you  can  talk  to  us.     It's  we  that's  consarned.     It's 

us  as  wants   to   know   who's   a-going   to   pay  us. 

You've  brought  us  into  a  blooming  mess  with  your 

lies,  and  the  five  of  us  men,  as  Captain  Dopping 

shipped  at  Cadiz,  stands  for  to  be  transported  if  so 

be  as  our  law  catches  hold  of  us,  and  all  along  of 

you  and  him  as  lays  below.     If  you  can  talk  to  Mr. 

Portlack,  you  can  talk  to  us." 
12 


1Y8     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  What  you  weesh  me  say  ? "  cried  the  miserable 
Spaniard,  extending  his  arms,  and  casting  a  look  of 
entreaty  at  me. 

"  Who's  a-going  to  pay  us  men  ? "  vociferated 
Butler,  striking  the  palm  of  his  left  hand  with  a  leg- 
of-mutton  fist.  The  men  stood  so  close  to  Don 
Lazarillo  that  he  was  forced  to  dodge  his  head  here 
and  there  to  catch  a  sight  of  Mariana,  to  whom  he 
cried  out  something  in  his  native  tongue. 

"  Seiior  Portlack,"  said  the  cook,  in  a  cringing 
attitude,  "  Don  Lazarillo  beg  me  say  he  will  speak 
wid  you.     I  vsdll  translate." 

"  Let  it  be  so,  men,"  I  exclaimed  ;  "  you'll  do  no 
good  by  shouting  questions  to  a  man  who  doesn't 
understand  you." 

They  drew  away  sulkily.  Don  Lazarillo  pulled 
off  his  hat  to  pass  a  large  colored  silk  handkerchief 
over  his  forehead.  He  then  stepj)ed  up  to  me. 
The  cook  posted  himself  close  to  him,  and  the  sail- 
ors, with  whom  now  was  the  negro  boy,  took  up  a 
station  within  easy  earshot.  Mariana  translating, 
the  dialogue  took  this  form  ; — 

"  The  men  wish  to  know  who  is  to  pay  them 
their  wages  ? " 

"  Don  Christoval  is  now  dead,"  answered  the 
Spaniard.     "  This  adventure  therefore  terminates !  " 


A  TRAGEDY.  179 

"How? — terminates?"  I  cried.  "We  are  still 
upon  the  high  seas.  "We  have  still  the  young  lady 
•with  us  to  restore  to  those  from  whom  you  and 
your  friend  stole  her.  ISTo,  no,  this  adventure  has 
not  yet  terminated  !  " 

"  "Wliat  do  you  mean  to  do  ? "  he  asked. 

"  That  is  no  answer  to  my  question.  Who  will 
pay  those  men  for  the  work  they  have  done,  the 
risks  they  have  run,  and  have  yet  to  run  ? " 

He  put  his  hand  to  his  brow,  and,  after  a  pause, 
said,  "  I  must  think." 

The  sailors  fell  a-shouting  exclamations.  The 
chorus  was  swelled  by  the  voices  of  the  man  at  the 
helm,  and  by  the  fellow  below,  who  had  got  upon 
the  cabin  table,  and  stood  with  his  head  in  the  open 
skylight,  listening. 

"  Silence ! "  I  cried ;  "  how  am  I  to  transact 
your  business  if  you  interrupt  me  ?  The  men,"  I 
continued,  addressing  the  Spaniard,  "look  to  you 
for  payment.  They  will  not  lose  sight  of  you  until 
you  pay  them.  Have  you  money  with  you,  or  the 
equivalent  of  money  ? "  I  added,  fixing  my  eyes 
upon  his  rings  and  brooch ;  "  for  /  must  be  paid, 
Don  Lazarillo,  and  they  must  be  paid." 

"  I  will  answer,  I  will  be  honorable.  I  will 
give  my  word ;  and  the  word  of  a  Spanish  gentle- 


180     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

men  is  gold."  A  growl  proceeded  from  tlie  sea- 
men. "  But  first,  as  a  matter  of  courtesy,  to  help 
my  mind  in  its  blindness — for  the  death  of  my 
friend  has  caused  my  brains  to  spin  round  in  my 
head — I  entreat  you,  senor,  to  tell  me  what  are 
your  intentions  ? " 

"  To  restore  the  young  lady  to  her  friends." 

"  What ! "  he  cried,  shouting  the  words  with  a 
face  of  horror  to  Mariana;  "you  will  proceed  to 
England  ? " 

I  responded  with  a  vehement  nod. 

"  Then  vot  sail  become  of  me  ? "  he  exclaimed  in 
English. 

I  shrugged  my  shoulders.  He  folded  his  arms 
tightly  upon  his  breast,  and,  with  bowed  head,  fell 
to  measuring  a  few  feet  of  the  deck.  "We  all 
watched  him  in  silence  while  he  thus  walked.  Sud- 
denly he  stopped,  and,  turning  upon  Mariana,  ad- 
dressed him  volubly  and  with  amazing  energy, 
making  a  very  windmill  of  his  arms.  I  knew  that 
he  was  saying  a  great  deal  more  than  Mariana  could- 
translate,  more,  indeed,  to  judge  from  the  expres- 
sion that  entered  the  cook's  face,  tlian  the  repulsive- 
looking  creature  would  choose  to  translate.  Never- 
theless, I  waited  in  patience,  making  a  single  gesture 
of  command  to  the  sailors  to  be  still. 


A  TRAGEDY.  181 

Mariana  then  spoke ;  the  substance  of  his  speech 
was  this:  Don  Lazarillo  asked  for  a  few  hours. 
Ke  desired  to  look  over  the  effects  of  his  dead 
friend  ;  he  desired  time  to  mature  a  proposal  which 
he  hoped  to  make  to  me.  This  was  substantially  all 
that  Mariana  translated.  Yet,  owing  to  his  slow 
delivery  and  to  his  broken-winded  English,  the 
matter  he  dehvered  appeared  to  contain  much  more 
than  was  in  it.  I  had  no  doubt,  however,  that  Don 
Lazarillo  in  his  speech  had  acquainted  the  fellow 
with  some  half-formed  scheme  in  his  mind,  as  good 
for  Mariana  perhaps  as  for  himself. 

I  told  the  cook  to  inform  the  Don  that  we 
would  give  him  until  six  o'clock  that  evening,  and 
that  if  he  was  not  ready  with  his  proposals  by  that 
hour,  I  should  shift  the  schooner's  helm  for  Eng- 
land, where,  on  my  arrival,  it  would  be  my  duty  to 
deliver  him  and  Mariana  into  the  hands  of  justice. 
The  cook,  in  translating  this,  was  almost  as  ashen 
in  color  as  the  other. 

Don  Lazarillo  descended  into  the  cabin.  Butler 
came  up  to  me. 

"You're  merely  frightening  the  man,  I  hope, 
sir,"  said  he,  "  with  this  here  talk  of  sailing  to  Eng- 
land?" 

"  Let's  settle  with  him  first,"  I  answered,  "  and 


182      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

then  I'll  call  a  council  of  the  crew.  Meanwhile  it 
is  senseless  to  keep  the  schooner  under  all  this  can- 
vas. Let  us  shorten  sail  and  lay  her  with  her  head 
to  the  east  until  we  hear  what  Don  Lazarillo  has  to 
say  for  himself." 

He  looked  doubtfully  round  the  sea,  then  con- 
sented. So  we  reduced  the  schooner  down  to  what 
is  termed  a  scandalized  mainsail  and  a  jib,  and  all 
that  afternoon  she  lay  under  that  canvas,  blowing 
along  very  quietly  eastward. 

Some  time  about  four  o'clock  I  went  below  and 
asked  Trapp,  who  was  still  on  watch  in  the  cabin, 
if  all  had  been  quiet  in  the  lady's  cabin. 

"  Ne'er  so  much  noise  as  a  mouse  would  have 
made,  sir,"  said  he. 

I  lightly  tapped  on  the  young  lady's  door,  and 
without  waiting  for  a  response,  which  I  knew  I 
should  not  obtain,  I  turned  the  handle  and  looked 
in.  The  girl  was  seated  in  her  chair,  but  her  head 
lay  back  upon  the  cushioned  round  of  it.  Her 
eyes  were  sealed,  and  her  lips  apart.  I  looked  at 
her,  scarcely  knowing  whether  she  was  alive  or 
dead ;  but  presently  observing  that  her  bosom  rose 
and  fell,  I  went  to  her  side,  put  my  ear  to  her 
mouth,  and  heard  her  breathing  regularly  and 
peacefully.      I   stood  a  while  looking  at   her,   my 


A  TRAGEDY.  183 

heart  full  of  pity.  I  peered  closely  at  her  fingers : 
her  rings  were  rich  and  beautiful — diamonds  and 
rubies  of  great  value ;  but  I  might  make  sure  now 
there  was  no  wedding-ring  buried  among  the  three 
or  four  which  armored  the  finger  the  ring  would 
have  been  on.  One  little  foot  showed,  and  I  per- 
ceived that  she  was  shod  with  white  satin.  There 
was  something  to  shock  me  in  the  ironic  contrast 
created  by  the  sight  of  that  satin  shoe — the  contrast 
between  the  grim  and  tragic  reality  that  was  now 
hers  and  the  festal  vision  of  the  ball-room,  with  its 
swimming  figures,  the  bright  music  of  the  dance, 
the  gleam  of  fans,  the  scent  of  fiowers. 

I  was  happy  to  discover  that  she  was  able  to 
sleep.  It  seemed  to  my  plain  mind  a  good  sign, 
for  I  had  often  been  told  that  sleeplessness  was  one 
of  the  horrible  conditions  of  insanitv ;  that  not  to 
be  able  to  sleep  drove  men  mad ;  and  that  when 
they  were  mad  still  they  were  sleepless.  Strange 
as  it  will  seem,  I  could  not,  I  did  not,  associate  any 
horror  of  assassination  with  that  restful  figure.  I 
had  seen  her  standino^  at  the  door,  and  had  marked 
the  red  gleam  upon  the  knife  she  held  ;  I  had  seen 
the  tall  and  handsome  Spaniard  in  the  act  of  fall- 
ing, tlien  tumbling  his  whole  length  and  expiring. 
Yet  I  could  gaze  at  this  poor  girl  without  the  least 


184     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

emotion  of  aversion,  without  tlie  least  sense  of  that 
sort  of  horrid  unaccountable  fascination  with  which 
red-handed  crime  constrains  the  gaze  of  the  spec- 
tator. 

This  was  not,  I  think,  because  I  knew  she  was 
mad,  and,  being  mad,  irresponsible,  and,  being  irre- 
sponsible, virtually  guiltless.  JSTo  ;  it  was  because 
of  a  singular  atmosphere  of  purity  and  sweetness 
about  her  as  she  now  lay  sleeping.  Beautiful  she 
was  not.  Indeed,  she  was  not  even  what  might  be 
called  pretty ;  but  now  that  she  slept  the  demon 
within  her  slept  also.  What  was  native  in  her 
showed  in  her  countenance.  You  witnessed  it  in 
this  slumber  of  madness  as  you  would  have  beheld 
it  in  her  waking  hours  of  sanity.  I  stood  viewing 
her  and  I  thought  to  myself  she  is  a  refined  lady, 
pure,  gentle,  and  good. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

DON    LAZAEILLO    LEAVES   TJS. 

I  WENT  out,  closing  the  door  behind  me,  and 
called  to  Butler  through  the  skylight  to  send  the 
negro  boy  to  me.  The  lad  arrived,  and  I  bade  him 
prepare  a  tray  of  refreshments  for  Miss  Noble. 

"  How  does  the  poor  lady  do,  sir  ? "  said  Trapp, 
who  sat  in  a  chair  looking  on  while  I  got  upon  the 
table  and  called. 

"  She  is  sound  asleep,"  said  I.  "  So  much  the 
better.  You  can  go  forward  and  get  your  supper. 
I'll  keep  a  look-out  here  for  the  present." 

He  went  away,  and  presently  the  boy  Tom  ar- 
rived with  the  tray,  on  which  he  had  heaped  some 
cold  ham,  fruit,  jelly  from  a  bottle,  and  so  forth. 
I  poured  some  wine  into  a  tumbler,  and  softly  en- 
tering the  lady's  berth  placed  the  tray  beside  her 
on  the  deck,  where,  should  the  schooner  begin  to 
frisk,  it  would  slide  without  capsizing.  I  supposed 
that  all  this  while  Don  Lazarillo  was  in  his  own 


186     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

cabin  gnawing,  as  liis  trick  was,  upon  his  finger- 
ends  while  he  reflected  upon  the  proposals  he  was 
presently  to  submit.  My  thoughts  went  from  him 
to  his  dead  friend,  and  I  stepped  to  the  berth  where 
the  body  lay  to  look  at  it. 

On  opening  the  door  I  beheld  Don  Lazarillo  on 
his  knees  at  the  side  of  the  bunk  in  which  reposed 
the  body  of  Don  Christoval.  His  hands  were 
clasped,  his  eyes  were  upturned,  and,  though  his 
accents  were  inaudible  outside  the  door,  he  prayed 
with  so  much  fervor  as  to  be  for  some  moments 
insensible  of  my  presence.  Then  bringing  his  flash- 
ing eyes  from  the  upper  deck  he  directed  them  at 
me,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon  his  breast,  rose 
to  his  feet,  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon  the  face 
of  the  dead  body,  on  whose  breast  he  had  laid  a 
crucifix,  and  then  looked  at  me. 

I  went  to  the  side  of  the  bunk  and  stood  for  a 
few  moments  gazing  at  the  pale,  still,  serene,  most 
handsome  face  of  the  dead. 

"  When  ees  he  to  bury  ? "  said  Don  Lazarillo. 

"To-night,"  said  I. 

"  He  is  Catolique,"  he  exclaimed. 

"  "We  shall  have  to  cast  him  into  the  sea  without 
ceremony,  I  fear,"  said  I,  "unless  you  will  say 
some  prayers  over  him." 


DON   LAZARILLO   LEAVES   US,  18Y 

He  seemed  to  understand  me,  for  lie  nodded 
eagerly,  and  then,  as  if  to  an  afterthought,  made  me 
a  very  low,  humble  bow  of  thanks.  Pointing  to 
my  fingers,  then  to  the  chain  of  my  watch,  and  then 
to  the  body  of  the  Spaniard,  I  said,  "  Will  you  see 
to  his  property  ? " 

He  pulled  open  a  drawer  and  motioned  me  to 
observe  some  objects  wrapped  in  a  silk  pocket- 
handkerchief.  On  this  I  looked  again  at  the  body, 
and  now  saw  that  the  one  or  two  rings  and  other 
jewelry  which  Don  Christoval  had  worn  were  re- 
moved. I  walked  out  of  the  berth,  leaving  Don 
Lazarillo  to  proceed  with  his  prayers,  earnestly 
hoping,  however,  that  he  would  be  ready  with  his 
proposals  by  six  o'clock,  and  that  they  would  be 
practicable  and  consistent  with  my  own  wishes ; 
because  if  he  made  no  sign  I  should  be  at  a  loss, 
since  it  was  certain  that  the  crew  would  not  suffer 
me  to  execute  my  threat  to  carry  him  to  England 
while  they  remained  on  board ;  and  how  to  deal 
with  them  was  a  problem  I  should  not  very  well  be 
able  to  solve  until  I  had  dealt  with  him. 

I  told  Tom  to  procure  me  a  cup  of  chocolate 
from  Mariana.  I  then  took  a  cigar  from  a  locker 
in  which  were  many  boxes  of  cigars,  and,  seating 
myself  in  an  arm-chair,  smoked  and  ruminated  on 


188     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

the  tragic  incidents  of  the  day.  Shortly  before  six 
I  peeped  into  Miss  Noble's  room.  She  still  slept 
soundly,  exactly  in  the  posture  in  which  I  had  left 
her.  This  I  did  not  think  wonderful,  since,  for  all 
I  knew,  she  might  not  have  slept  a  wink  while  she 
had  been  aboard  the  schooner,  and  nature,  utterly  ex- 
hausted, had  claimed  at  last  the  heavy  arrears  owing 
to  her.  I  listened :  her  breathing  was  perfectly 
placid ;  her  bosom  rose  and  fell  gently  and  regu- 
larly. I  touched  her  hand  and  found  it  warm.  The 
refreshments  were  upon  the  deck  untouched,  as  I 
had  placed  them. 

As  I  closed  the  door  upon  the  sleeping  girl, 
Don  Lazarillo  emerged  from  the  cabin  in  which 
his  friend's  remains  lay.  There  Avas  a  scowl  upon 
his  face  that  darkened  his  cheeks  like  a  deeper  dye 
of  complexion.  I  watched  him  out  of  the  corners 
of  my  eyes,  saying  to  myself,  "  This  man  is  a 
Spaniard  ;  I  have  used  strong  words  to  him  ;  he 
would  think  nothing  of  serving  me  as  Miss  !Noble 
served  his  friend."  He  drew  a  paper  cigar  from 
a  pocket  case,  lighted  it,  and  sat  down,  pointing 
to  the  little  clock  in  the  skylight  as  he  did  so,  as 
though  he  would  say,  "  You  see  I  am  punctual," 
And,  in  truth,  it  was  exactly  six  o'clock. 

He  broke  the  silence  by  making  me  understand 


BO^   LAZARILLO  LEAVES  US.  189 

that  he  wished  for  Mariana.  The  sailors  were  as- 
sembled at  the  skylight  gazing  down  impatiently, 
and  I  bade  one  of  them  tell  the  cook  to  lay  aft,  and 
for  Butler  and  two  others  to  join  us  below. 

"  But  come  quietly,"  said  I,  "  and  make  no  noise 
when  you're  here,  for  Miss  Noble  is  asleep.  One  of 
you  must  remain  on  deck  to  keep  a  look-out." 

This  fell  to  George  South,  and  Andrew  Trapp 
was  at  the  helm.  Butler,  Scott,  and  Tubb  came  be- 
low, and  they  were  hastily  followed  by  Mariana. 
The  conversation  (as  translated  by  the  cook,  though 
it  is  needless,  perhaps,  to  say  that  my  version  is 
somewhat  more  intelligible  than  the  original  as  it 
appeared  in  Mariana's  speech)  proceeded  thus  : 

"  Well,  Don  Lazarillo,"  said  I,  "  you  have  had 
plenty  of  time  to  consider.  Wliat  now  do  you  wish 
to  say  ? " 

"  La  Casandra  is  my  property,"  he  replied  ;  "  she 
is  owned  by  me,  and  I  placed  her  at  the  disposal  of 
Don  Christoval  del  Padron.  You  talk  of  carrying 
her  to  England.  I  do  not  wish  that  she  should  go 
to  England." 

"  It  is  my  business  to  restore  the  young  lady  to 
her  friends,"  said  I ;  "  and  since  this  schooner  carried 
her  off  from  them,  most  assuredly  she  will  have  to 
carry  her  back  to  them." 


190  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  But  what  is  to  become  of  my  schooner  when 
you  have  her  in  England  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  and  I  do  not  care,"  said  I. 
"  Stop  !  1  will  tell  you  this :  I  shall  hand  her  over 
to  the  shipping  authorities  at  the  port  at  which  we 
arrive.  I  will  name  you  as  her  owner.  You  can 
claim  her,  if  you  will,  but  I  shall  be  compelled  to 
tell  the  story  of  this  adventure,  and  to  explain  the 
part  you  took  in  it." 

"  What's  all  this  got  to  do  with  paying  of  us  ? " 
growled  Butler. 

Don  Lazarillo  sat  scowling  at  me. 

"  You  are  quite  at  liberty,"  I  continued,  "  to  re- 
main on  board  your  own  schooner  ;  but  in  that  case 
you  return  with  us  to  England,  where  certainly  my 
immediate  duty  will  be  to  inform  against  you." 

He  snarled  a  malediction. 

"  What  about  our  money  ?  Ask  him  that,"  cried 
Scott  to  Mariana. 

"  I  will  send  you  and  the  lady,"  said  Don  Laza- 
rillo, "  to  the  first  passing  ship  that  is  proceeding  to 
England,  and  these  sailors  will  continue  the  voyage 
with  me  to  Cuba." 

"  Wlio's  going  to  navigate  the  vessel  ? "  said  Tubb. 

"  A  i^assing  ship  will  help  us  to  a  lieutenant," 
answered  Don  Lazarillo. 


DON  LAZARILLO   LEAVES  US.  191 

"  "Where's  the  passing  ship  to  come  from  ? " 
sneered  Butler.  "  "WTio's  a-going  to  wait  for  her  ? 
And  d'ye  think  us  men  'ud  be  content  to  mess  about 
in  this  blooming  schooner,  may  be  for  weeks,  not 
knowing  w^here  we  are  and  not  knowing  how  to 
head  ?  Ask  the  gent  who's  a-going  to  pay  us,  cook  ? 
That's  what  we're  assembled  for  to  hear." 

"  Besides,"  said  I,  "  I  should  not  dream  of  trans- 
ferring Miss  Koble  to  another  vessel  in  her  present 
condition." 

I  spied  Don  Lazarillo  and  Mariana  exchanging  a 
look.  Indeed,  I  already  more  than  suspected  that 
these  proposals  of  the  Spaniards  so  far  were  no 
more  than  a  "  try  on,"  to  use  a  cant  term  ;  that  he 
held  another  card  in  his  hand  ready  to  play  should 
he  be  forced  to  do  so,  but  that,  meanwhile,  his  busi- 
ness was  to  make  the  best  terms  he  could  for  him- 
self. This  conjecture  was  confirmed  by  the  next 
speech  of  his  that  Mariana  translated  : 

"  Then  what  remains  but  for  me  to  be  trans- 
shipped to  a  passing  vessel — Mariana  and  me  ? " 

"  That  is  reasonable.  That  shall  be  done,"  said 
I.     "  It  is  what  I  myself  should  have  proposed." 

"  Contento  !  "  said  Don  Lazarillo,  and  was  silent. 

"  Wliat  about  our  money  ? "  said  Butler. 

The  Spaniard  looked  round  him  on  Mariana  ren- 


192     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

dering  tins,  tlien  said,  "  I  will  give  drafts  upon  my 
bank  at  Madrid." 

Butler,  who  was  clearly  the  sea  lawyer  of  this 
little  community,  fastening  his  eyes  upon  the  rings 
on  Don  Lazarillo's  fingers,  shook  his  head  with  a 
contemptuous  snort  of  laughter,  "  No,  no,"  cried 
he,  "  I  know  what  drafts  be.  A  draft's  a  check, 
and  a  check's  a  bit  of  paper  as  may  be  made  not 
worth  the  ink  it's  wrote  upon  with  by  the  party 
withdrawing  of  his  money  from  the  bank.  No, 
no,"  he  continued,  shaking  his  head  somewhat  sav- 
agely at  Don  Lazarillo,  "  we  want  money,  not  paper, 
and  if  ye  can't  pay  us  in  money,  then  ye've  got  to 
settle  with  us  in  what  is  next  best  to  it."  And  here 
he  looked  significantly  at  the  Don's  rings  again. 

"  You  may  tell  Don  Lazarillo,"  said  I  to  Mari- 
ana, "  that  we  shall  not  be  satisfied  with  his  drafts, 
nor  with  anything  short  of  the  cash  he  may  have 
about  him  ;  and  what  he  may  lack  in  cash  he  must 
make  good  in  jewelry,  of  which  he  and  his  dead 
friend  have  plenty  between  them." 

When  this  was  interpreted,  an  expression  like 
a  spasm  passed  over  Don  Lazarillo's  face.  He  re- 
flected, then,  with  a  passionate  gesture,  whipped  out 
a  pocket-book,  from  which  he  abstracted  a  handsome 
gold  pencil-case,  and   all    very   passionately,  with 


DON   LAZARILLO  LEAVES  US.  193 

knitted  brows  and  muttering  lips,  he  entered  certain 
figures,  then  shrieked  rather  than  pronounced  the 
amount  to  the  cook,  naming  it  in  Spanish  currency. 
Mariana  nodded.  Don  Lazarillo  now  addressed  him 
with  excitement,  then,  springing  to  his  feet,  he  en- 
tered Don  Christoval's  room,  from  which,  in  a  few 
minutes,  he  returned  bearing  with  him  a  bag  of  yel- 
low leather,  and  the  silk  pocket-handkerchief  which, 
as  he  had  given  me  to  understand,  contained  his  de- 
ceased friend's  jewelry.  He  opened  the  bag  with 
trembling  fingers,  and  then,  with  glowing  eyes,  he 
capsized  the  contents  on  to  the  table.  This  con- 
sisted of  English  sovereigns — two  or  three  hundred, 
I  should  have  imagined. 

"  Count,"  shrieked  the  Spaniard,  "  and  divide." 
I  counted,  and  made  the  sum  exactly  a  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds. 

"Divide,"  yelled  Don  Lazarillo,  and  he  added 
some  terms  in  Spanish  which  Mariana  did  not  think 
proper  to  interpret.  The  cook's  eyes  gleamed  like 
the  blade  of  a  new  poniard  as  he  looked  at  the 
money.  I  told  thirty  pounds  for  each  man  ;  for 
this,  it  seems,  was  the  wages  agreed  upon  for  the 
run.  Don  Lazarillo  then  thrust  the  little  parcel  of 
jewelry   which   had  belonged  to  his  friend  across 

to  me. 

13 


194      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  Dat  veel  pay  you,  I  hope,  Capitan  Portlack," 
he  exclaimed,  hooking  his  thumbs  in  the  arms  of 
his  waistcoat,  and  leaning  back  with  an  assumption 
of  haughtiness  and  contempt,  which  fitted  him  as  ill 
as  the  clothes  of  Don  Christoval  would. 

I  opened  the  handkerchief,  and  found  a  hand- 
some gold  watch  and  chain  and  a  very  fine  diamond 
ring.  I  gave  Don  Lazarillo  a  nod,  and  without 
speech  put  these  articles  into  my  pockets.  The 
value  of  this  jewelry  to  purchase  it  would  prob- 
ably  have  amounted  to  three  or  four  times  the  sum 
I  was  to  receive  ;  but  then  I  estimated  the  things  at 
their  selling  price,  which  probably  might  not  reach 
to  fifty  guineas,  so  that  in  pocketing  them  I  was 
taking  no  more  than  was  my  due. 

"  You  are  now  all  satisfied,  I  hope,"  exclaimed 
Don  Lazarillo,  through  Mariana.  Yes,  we  were 
all  satisfied.  "  And  you  put  Mariana  and  me  and 
my  effects  on  board  the  first  passing  ship  that  will 
receive  us  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  I. 

"But  suppose  that  she  is  sailing  to  Australia 
or  to  India  ?  " 

"  I  shall  not  be  able  to  help  that,"  said  I.  "  You 
may  stay  in  this  schooner  if  you  please,  but  Miss 
Noble  must  be  conveyed  home." 


DON  LAZARILLO   LEAVES  US.  I95 

He  rose  from  his  seat  frowning,  viciously  bit  off 
the  end  of  a. cigar,  lighted  it,  and  went  on  deck,  fol- 
lowed bv  the  cook, 

"  Well,  your  minds  are  easy  now,  I  hope,  my 
lads  ? "  said  I,  rising. 

"  AYe're  obliged  to  ye,  Mr.  Portlack,"  answered 
Butler.  "You've  managed  first-rate  for  us.  And 
now,  d'ye  know,  sir,  while  I've  been  sitting  at  this 
table  an  idea's  come  into  my  head." 

"What  is  that  idea?" 

"  It  consarns  our  leaving  the  schooner,  sir." 

"  Let  me  hear  it." 

"  There's  that  big  boat  amidships,"  said  he. 
"We  shipped  at  Cadiz,  and  it  was  known  at  Cadiz 
that  this  here  Casandra  sailed  from  that  port  on 
such  and  such  a  day.  Now  my  idea  is :  suppose 
you  run  in  for  the  Spanish  land  until  you've  got 
Cadiz  within,  say,  half-a-day's  sail.  Us  men  will 
then  launch  the  cutter  and  start  away  for  the  port, 
you  giving  us  its  bearings.  We  must  turn  to  and 
invent  a  yarn  and  represent  this  schooner  as  having 
foundered,  the  rest  of  the  people  who  got  away  in 
the  small  boat  being  lost  sight  of  by  us.  There  are 
plenty  of  vessels  at  Cadiz,  and  they're  always  in 
want  of  hands.  We  can  ship  as  smartly  as  we 
choose,  get  away,  and  then  there'll  be  an  end." 


196     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

I  reflected,  and  said,  "  I  think  your  sclieme  ex- 
cellent, and  Cadiz,  though  still  somewhat  south,  is, 
in  my  opinion,  as  good  as  any  other  port.  Only, 
when  you  are  gone  and  the  two  Spaniards  trans- 
shipped, I  shall  be  alone  in  this  schooner." 

"  There'll  be  Tom,  sir,"  said  Tubb. 

I  smiled. 

"  If  you're  to  return  to  England,  Mr.  Portlack," 
said  Butler,  pronouncing  his  words  with  great 
emphasis,  "  in  this  here  schooner,  and  we're  to 
leave  you,  which  must  be,  for  ne'er  a  man  of  us 
must  dream  of  going  home  for  a  long  spell  to  come 
arter  such  a  job  as  this,  then  what  I  say  is,  there's 
no  help  for  it.  Alone  ye'll  have  to  be  until  such 
times  as  a  passing  vessel  'uU  loan  ye  a  man  or  two 
to  help  you  home." 

"Your  scheme  requires  reflection,"  said  I. 
"  Give  me  time  to  think  over  it.  And  now,  since 
you're  below,  you  may  as  well  turn  to  and  get  that 
body  yonder  ready  for  the  last  toss.  We'll  drop  it 
over  the  side  at  eight  bells." 

I  walked  to  Miss  Noble's  cabin  and  looked  in. 
She  was  still  asleep,  preserving  absolutely  her  for- 
mer posture.  I  beckoned  to  Butler,  who  was  at 
that  instant  stepping  from  Don  Christoval's  berth. 
He  approached,  and  I  said,  "  See  there,"  pointing 


DON   LAZARILLO   LEAVES   US.  197 

to  the  ladj.  "  Slie  has  been  sleeping  like  that 
pretty  nearly  ever  since  we  left  the  berth  after 
searching  it." 

"  Is  she  sleeping  ? "  said  he. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  but  there  is  something  unnat- 
ural in  such  slumber  as  this.  She  has  not  stirred  a 
finger  for  some  hours." 

"  She  seems  breathing  all  right,  and  appears 
comfortable  enough,  sir,"  said  he,  after  silently  sur- 
veying her. 

"  She  does  not  look  comfortable.     I  wish  to  see 
her  in  her  bunk.     Let  us  gently  lift  her  into  it.     If 
she  wakens  she  may  prove  to  have  her  mind.     Ob 
serve  her  face ;  there  is  no  madness  in  that  placid 
expression." 

"We  were  both  strong  men,  and,  bending  over 
her  we  grasped,  swdftly  raised,  and  laid  her  at  her 
length  in  the  bunk.  She  never  moved.  It  was 
indeed  like  lifting  a  statue ;  just  as  we  placed  her 
60  did  she  continue  to  lie,  breathing  quietly  with 
an  expression  upon  her  lips  that  was  ahnost  a 
smile. 

"  "Well,"  hoarsely  whispered  Butler,  "  blowed  if 
I  could  ha'  believed  in  such  a  thing  had  I  been  told 
it.     She  may  be  a-dying." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  I ;  "  one  would  wish  to  right 


198     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

the  enormous  wrong  that  lias  deen  done  her  before 
she  dies." 

We  stood  in  the  doorway  a  few  minutes  looking 
at  her,  talking  in  whispers  of  the  assassination  of 
the  Spaniard,  and  of  other  matters  growing  out  of 
that  tragic  subject,  such  as  the  part  that  Don  Laza- 
rillo  was  playing  in  tliis  extraordinary  enterprise, 
the  probability  of  the  girl  having  lost  her  reason  for 
life,  and  so  forth,  during  which  the  young  lady  lay 
as  motionless  as  though  she  rested  in  her  coffin. 
Butler  then  left  the  cabin  to  obtain  materials  for 
stitching  up  the  body  in,  and  I  went  on  deck. 

We  buried  the  remains  of  Don  Christoval  at 
eight  bells  that  evening,  that  is,  at  eight  o'clock. 
It  was  a  fine  moonless  evening,  with  so  much  star- 
lidit  in  the  heavens  that  the  twilight  seemed  to  still 
dwell  in  the  atmosphere  when  the  afterglow  had 
lono;  ago  died  out.  There  was  a  pleasant  breeze, 
and  a  sullen,  steady  sweep  of  swell,  over  which  the 
schooner,  almost  denuded  of  her  canvas — for  our 
plans  were  not  yet  formed — rode  with  the  regu- 
larity of  the  tick  of  a  clock. 

Ever  since  sunset  Don  Lazarillo  had  hung  about 
in  the  waist,  conversing  with  Mariana  in  Spanish 
in  subdued  accents,  yet  with  an  energy  that  again 
and  again  ran  a  hiss  through  his  utterance.     The 


DON  LAZARILLO   LEAVES   US.  J  99 

body,  with  a  couple  of  cannon  shot  attached  to  its 
feet,  was  handed  on  deck  by  three  of  the  men ;  it 
was  then  placed  upon  a  piece  of  the  main-hatch 
cover,  and  hoisted  to  the  lee-rail,  the  foot  of  the 
cover  resting  on  the  rail,  while  the  head  was  sup- 
ported by  Butler  and  South.  The  two  Spaniards, 
who  had  fallen  dmnb  when  the  body  was  brought 
on  deck,  repeatedly  crossed  themselves,  holding 
their  hats  in  their  hands,  while  the  men  were 
manoeuvring  at  the  sides  with  Don  Christoval's  re- 
mains. 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  "  said  I. 

"  All  ready,  sir,'*  answered  Butler. 

"  Pull  off  your  caps,  lads,"  said  I,  and,  bare- 
headed, I  stepped  up  to  Don  Lazarillo  and  begged 
him  to  recite  tlie  prayers  he  desired  to  pronounce 
over  his  friend's  ashes. 

He  responded  with  a  bow,  which,  for  the  mo- 
ment, affected  me  by  its  mixture  of  courtesy  and 
grief,  and  then,  with  Mariana  stalking  at  his  heels, 
approached  the  body.  They  went  down  upon  their 
knees,  and  Don  Lazarillo  prayed  loudly,  the  cook 
occasionally  striking  in  with  an  ejaculation.  I 
gazed  with  respect,  and  oven  reverence,  at  this 
strange  picture.  No  matter  what  a  man's  faith  may 
be,  no  matter  what  his  color  may  be,  no  matter  how 


200     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

wild  and  grotesque  tlie  accents  in  which  he  vents 
himself,  never  can  I  behold  him  praying  to  the 
Being  in  whom  he  believes,  jea,  even  though  he  be 
a  John  Chinaman  prostrate  to  the  flat  of  his  fore- 
head upon  the  floor  of  his  joss-house,  without  being 
strangely  moved  and  melted  into  feelings  and  sen- 
sations in  which  one  should  seem  to  find  but  little 
affinity  with  the  rough  life  of  the  ocean.  The 
Spaniard's  prayers  were  not  mine,  his  religion  was 
not  mine;  but  what  signifies  that^  thought  I,  as  I 
stood  listening  and  gazing ;  every  man  sets  his 
watch  in  the  dark,  and  it  is  but  reasonable  that 
every  man  should  think  his  own  time  right. 

The  night  wind,  damp  with  dew,  hummed  in  the 
rigging ;  the  dark  water  broke  from  the  gentle 
thrust  of  the  stem  in  sobs,  while  Don  Lazarillo 
prayed,  and  while  Mariana  ejaculated.  As  my  eye 
went  to  the  pale  glimmering  shape  of  the  canvas  I 
heard  again  the  sounds  of  the  sweet  tenor  voice  as 
it  had  quietly  rung  through  the  open  skylight  that 
morning.  I  heard  again  the  harp-like  notes  of  the 
delicately-fingered  guitar,  I  beheld  again  those  vis- 
ions which  that  clear,  melodious  voice  had  evoked, 
those  summer  aromatic  scenes  which  Don  Christo- 
val's  songs  had  painted  upon  the  vision  of  my 
mind.     The  Spaniards  rose  from  their  knees.     Don 


DON  LAZARILLO   LEAVES    US.  201 

Lazarillo  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon  the  body, 
then  pronounced  some  word  in  Spanish,  with  a  sob 
in  his  tone. 

"  Let  it  go,  men,"  said  I. 

They  tilted  the  hatch,  and  the  pale  shape  flashed 
over  the  side. 

"  Is  Butler  forward  there  ? "  I  called  out  as  I 
was  pacing  the  quarter-deck  half  an  hour  later. 

"  Here  he  is,  sir,"  responded  Butler's  voice. 

"  Step  aft,"  said  I.  He  arrived.  "  Butler,  I've 
been  thinking  over  your  scheme.  For  the  last  half- 
hour  I've  been  thinking  of  nothing  else.  If  you 
men  go  away  in  the  boat,  will  the  negro  boy  Tom 
be  willing  to  remain  with  me  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  How  do  you  know." 

"  I  put  the  question  to  him  and  he  said  he  would 
be  willing." 

"  Then,"  I  exclaimed,  "  I  consent.  I  agree  with 
you  that,  if  you  are  to  leave  me,  I  must  be  alone 
until  I  can  get  help.  I  might  indeed  transship  you, 
feign  to  tlie  master  of  the  vessel  we  should  speak 
that  you  were  mutineers — a  character  you  would  all 
have  to  support — and  ask  him  to  give  me  two  or 
three  men  in  exchange  for  my  five.  That  I  might 
do ;  but  the  business  would  consist  of  a  lie,  and  I 


202     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

hate  lies.  We  should  have  to  act  a  part :  the  fire 
of  jou  would  have  to  invent  a  yarn,  and  carefully 
stick  to  it,  while  you  were  aboard  the  vessel  that 
received  you.  .  .  .  Xo !  your  plan  is  the  most 
straightforward,  and  the  least  troublesome.  The 
risk  is  mine,  and  a  heavy  risk  it  is — to  be  left  in  a 
big  vessel  with  one  hand  only,  and  that  hand  a  boy, 
and  a  mad  lady  below,  who  will  requii-e  watching, 
and  who  may  attempt  our  lives  when  she  awakes. 
Eat  I  see  no  other  M'ay  out  of  the  difficulty." 

"  Nor  I,  sir,"  he  answered.  "  We  don't  like  the 
notion  of  leaving  ye  alone ;  but  then,  you  insist 
upon  carrying  this  here  schooner  to  England,  and 
to  England  we  don't  mean  to  go,"  said  he,  slap- 
ping his  leg. 

"  Say  no  more.  We'll  hold  that  matter  settled. 
Only,  before  you  leave,  the  two  Spaniards  must 
have  left ;  otherwise  they'll  be  cutting  Tom's  and 
my  throat,  taking  their  chance,  as  I  shall  have  to 
take  my  chance,  of  being  fallen  in  with  and  suc- 
cored. The  Don  doesn't  like  the  notion  of  losing 
his  schooner ;  but  lose  her  he  must,  for  he'll  never 
dare  to  lay  claim  to  her." 

"  I  should  think  not ! "  said  he.  "  Well,  sir,  then 
I'll  tell  my  mates  it's  settled.  What  about  leaving 
the  vessel  under  this  small  canvas  ? " 


DON  LAZARILLO  LEAVES  US.  203 

"  Oh,"  I  answered,  "sail  can  now  be  made,  and 
I'll  shape  a  course  for  Cadiz.  As  we  approach  the 
land,  we  stand  to  fall  in  with  some  trader,  who'll 
put  the  two  Spaniards  ashore  on  their  native  soil." 

I  was  in  charge  of  the  deck,  and  it  was  for  me, 
therefore,  to  give  the  necessary  orders  for  sail  to  be 
made.  The  sailors  sprang  about  with  marvelous 
agility.  The  influence  of  the  money  they  had  re- 
ceived operated  far  more  strongly  in  them  than  the 
influence  of  the  funeral  they  had  witnessed,  and  I 
believe  that  nothing  had  restrained  them  from  sing- 
ing, dancing,  making  a  night  of  it,  in  short — for  the 
fellows  were  never  without  plenty  of  a  cheap  sort 
of  claret  that  had  been  economically  laid  in  for 
their  consumption — nothing,  I  say,  had  hindered 
them  from  celebrating  their  payment  of  thirty 
pounds  a  man  by  a  forecastle  carousal,  but  the  feel- 
ing that  some  trifling  respect  was  due  to  the  mem- 
ory of  the  dead  and  to  the  affliction  of  Don  Laza- 
rillo.  Sail  was  heaped  upon  the  schooner,  iler 
twin  spires  floated  through  the  liquid  dusk  that  was 
radiant  with  large  trembling  stars,  and  a  sheen 
melted  off  the  edges  of  the  canvas  into  the  gloom, 
as  though  the  whole  fabric  were  some  tall  island 
of  ice. 

Don  Lazarillo  sat  under  the  skylight ;  he   lay 


204     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

back  in  liis  chair  with  his  legs  crossed,  his  hands 
clasped  upon  his  waistcoat,  and  a  long  cigar  forking 
out  of  his  mouth.  His  eyes  of  fire  were  fixed  upon 
one  of  the  cabin  lamps,  and  I  saw  them  gleaming, 
through  the  clouds  of  smoke  he  expelled,  like  tlie 
lanterns  of  a  light-sliip  on  a  thick  night.  His  coun- 
tenance wore  an  expression  of  desperate  dejection. 
Some  distance  away  from  him  sat  the  man  South, 
whose  turn  it  was  to  watch  beside  Miss  N^oble's 
cabin  door.  This  duty  I  conceived  might,  for  the 
next  two  hours,  at  all  events,  be  intrusted  to  the  ne- 
gro boy.  He  was  somewhere  forward.  I  called  to 
him,  and  he  came  along  to  me  out  of  the  gloom  ; 
his  black  face  so  blending  with  the  obscurity  that 
the  white  jacket  and  canvas  breeches  he  wore  made 
him  resemble  a  body  without  a  head, 

"  You  are  satisfied  to  remain  with  me,  Tom," 
said  I,  "  when  the  sailors  leave  me  ? " 

"  Yes,  massa." 

"  You  are  a  good  boy,  and  a  plucky  boy.  We 
shall  not  be  long  without  help,  I  expect.  I  will 
take  care  that  you  are  rewarded,"  The  ex])anse  of 
his  teeth  by  a  sudden  grin  was  like  a  streak  of  dim 
light  upon  the  darkness.  "  Go  below  into  the 
cabin,"  said  I,  "  and  relieve  South.  Let  him  go 
forward.     You  know  what  you  have  to  watch  ? " 


DON   LAZARILLO   LEAVES  US.  205 

"  Dah  ladj^'s  door,  sah." 

He  descended,  and  up  came  South,  who  was  im- 
mediately followed  by  Don  Lazarillo.  The  Span- 
iard, temporarily  blinded  by  the  brilliance  he  had 
emerged  from,  stood  in  the  companion-way  staring 
around  ;  then  perceiving  me,  he  crossed  the  deck 
and  with  great  haste  and  agitation  addressed  me  in 
Spanish. 

"  No  compreny,  no  compreny,  Don  Lazarillo  !  " 
I  exclaimed,  and  sang  out  for  Mariana  to  be  sent 
aft.  The  fellow  promptly  arrived,  and  upon  him 
the  Don  instantly  discharged  a  whole  torrent  of 
words. 

"  What  is  wrong  ?  "  said  I. 

The  cook  answered  that  Don  Lazarillo  wished 
Miss  Noble's  cabin  to  be  watched  by  a  seaman. 
Tom  was  a  boy.  Should  Miss  Noble  dash  out  of 
her  cabin  armed  with  a  knife,  what  would  Tom  be 
able  to  do  ? 

"  Tell  Don  Lazarillo,"  said  I,  "  that  Miss  Noble 
is  slumbering  in  what  seems  to  be  a  trance." 

The  Don  violently  shook  his  head.  His  friend 
had  been  assassinated  :  he  himself  might  be  the 
next  victim.  By  the  bones  of  St.  Thomas,  was  he 
to  be  stuck  in  the  back  like  a  pig,  or  to  have  his 
head  half  severed  from  his  body  in  his  sleep  ?     He 


206     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

would  ask  Captain  Portlack  to  do  him  a  great  favor 
— to  exchange  quarters  with  him.  He,  Don  Laza- 
rillo,  with  Seiior  Portlack's  courteous  permission, 
would  sleep  under  the  main  hatch  during  the  re- 
mainder of  his  stay  on  board  La  Casandra. 

I  promptly  assented,  and  that  the  unhappy  Span- 
iard should  meanwhile  enjoy  some  little  ease  of 
mind,  I  called  to  South  and  bade  him  resume  his 
look-out  in  the  cabin.  I  now  hoped  to  be  able  to 
get  the  truth  about  this  M^ild  and  tragic  expedition 
out  of  Don  Lazarillo,  and,  with  as  much  tact  as  I 
was  master  of,  sought  through  Mariana  to  direct 
the  conversation  that  way.  But  I  was  disappointed. 
Don  Lazarillo  returned  evasive  answers,  and  then, 
suddenly  complaining  of  the  cold,  made  me  a  bow 
and  withdrew  to  the  cabin  with  Mariana,  who,  I 
presently  ascertained,  immediately  went  to  work 
to  prepare  my  quarters  for  the  reception  of  the 
Don. 

After  ten  o'clock  I  saw  no  more  of  the  Span- 
iard. I  had  heard  some  sound  of  hammering,  but 
knew  not  what  it  signified  until  South,  coming  up 
out  of  the  cabin  after  having  been  relieved  by  one 
of  the  seamen,  informed  me  that  it  had  been  caused 
by  Mariana  nailing  up  the  bulk-head  door  that  led 
to  the  sleeping  quarters  I  had  occupied.    "  The  Don 


DON  LAZARILLO  LEAVES  US.  207 

don't  mean  that  the  lady  shall  get  at  him,  sir,"  said 
the  man,  with  a  short  laugh. 

I  stepped  into  the  cabin  to  mix  myself  a  glass  of 
grog,  dim  the  lamps,  and  take  a  look  round. 

"  Has  all  been  still  within  ? "  said  I  to  William 
Scott,  who  was  to  be  sentry  down  here  till  mid- 
night. 

He  replied  that  he  had  not  heard  a  sound.  On 
this  I  opened  the  door  of  the  lady's  room,  and  bade 
Scott  hold  it  open  that  I  might  see  by  the  sheen  of 
the  cabin  lamps.  There  lay  the  girl  as  she  had 
been  lying  for  hours,  always  breathing  with  the 
same  regularity,  her  posture  exactly  the  same.  I 
viewed  her  attentively,  but  could  not  detect  that 
she  had  moved  her  head  or  a  limb  by  as  much  as 
the  breadth  of  a  finger-nail. 

I  marveled  much  as  I  returned  on  deck.  "Was 
this  sleep  the  forerunner  of  death  ?  Was  life  ebb- 
ing away  as  she  thus  rested  ?  If  not,  then  how  long 
would  this  slumber  last  ?  Yet,  thought  I,  it  is.  best 
as  it  is ;  better  that  her  senses  should  be  thus  locked 
up,  than  that  with  eyes  brilliant  with  madness  she 
should  be  ceaselessly  pacing  the  floor  of  her  room, 
or  with  insane  cunning  watching  for  an  opportunity 
to  steal  forth. 

I  slept  during  my  watch  below — that  is,  from 


208     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

twelve  to  four — in  the  cabin  that  had  been  Don 
Lazarillo's,  and  Captain  Dopping's  before  him,  to 
which  new  quarters  I  found  that  Mariana  had 
brought  the  charts,  chronometer,  nautical  instru- 
ments, and  so  forth.  I  slept  soundly.  Butler 
aroused  me  :  all  had  been  well.  The  breeze  had 
freshened,  he  said  ;  at  three  o'clock  a  large  line-of- 
battle  ship  had  passed  within  musket-shot ;  saving 
this,  there  was  nothing  to  report.  I  looked  in  upon 
the  girl  on  my  way  to  the  deck  and  found  her,  as  I 
was  now  expecting  to  find  her,  in  a  deep  and  death- 
like sleep. 

When  the  dawn  broke  I  anxiously  scanned  the 
sea  line  in  search  of  a  ship.  Every  hour  of  sailing 
of  this  sort  was  sw^eeping  us  closer  into  the  Spanish 
coast ;  and  as  I  had  no  intention  whatever  of  re- 
linquishing my  five  seamen  until  I  had  got  rid  of 
the  two  Spaniards,  my  present  keen  anxiety  was  to 
heave  something  into  view  that  would  receive  them 
and  carry  them  off.  The  rising  sun  flashed  a  bright 
and  joyous  morning  into  the  wide  scene  of  heaven 
and  ocean.  The  horizon  lay  clear  as  the  rim  of  a 
lens ;  a  sweep  of  delicate  blue  to  either  hand  of  the 
glorious  wake  of  the  soaring  luminary,  with  the  sky 
sloping  down  to  it  in  a  dim  azure,  richly  mottled  in 
the  west  with  clouds ;  but  there  was  nothing  to  be 


DON   LAZARILLO   LEAVES   US.  209 

seen.  On  this  I  resolved  to  shorten  sail  and  to 
head  somewhat  more  to  the  southward,  where  we 
stood  a  chance  of  falling  in  with  the  sort  of  craft 
we  desired  to  signal.  All  hands  were  on  deck.  I 
briefly  explained  my  motive,  and  canvas  was  forth- 
with reduced,  diminishing  the  speed  of  the  schooner 
to  within  about  four  miles  an  hour. 

While  the  men  were  busy  with  the  ropes,  Don 
Lazarillo's  dark  and  bearded  face  rose  through  the 
main  hatch.  His  eyes  swept  the  horizon,  as  mine 
had,  and  then  they  settled  upon  me  with  a  frown 
of  disappointment.  His  comj)lexion  was  unwhole- 
some, as  from  a  long  night  of  sleeplessness  and 
anxiety,  not  to  mention  the  several  passions  which 
would  contend  within  him  when  he  reflected  on  the 
death  of  his  friend,  the  complete  and  tragic  fail- 
ure of  the  expedition,  the  prospective  loss  of  his 
schooner,  and  the  certain  loss  of  the  money — doubt- 
less a  large  sum — with  which  I  w^as  quite  sure  he 
had  aided  Don  Christoval  in  the  execution  of  his 
scheme  to  I'un  away  with  an  English  heiress.  He 
gave  me  a  sullen  boM',  pointed  with  a  shrug  to  the 
bare  ocean,  addressed  Mariana,  whose  eyes  watched 
him  from  the  galley-door,  and  descended  into  the 
cabin ;  but  as  I  happened  to  be  standing  close  to 

the  companion-way,  I  was  able  to  observe  that  he 
14 


210  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

paused,  before  entering  the  interior,  to  make  sure 
that  somebody  was  watching  Miss  Noble's  berth. 

He  had  finished  liis  breakfast  by  the  time  I  was 
ready  for  mine,  and  as  I  took  my  seat  he  got  up 
and  went  on  deck  in  silence,  casting  a  single  savage 
glance  at  the  door  of  the  lady's  cabin  as  he  walked 
to  the  companion-steps.  I  looked  in  upon  her 
when  I  had  breakfasted  ;  there  was  no  change  in 
her  attitude :  her  trance,  if  trance  it  were,  was  as 
profound  as  ever  it  had  been. 

However,  as  it  turned  out,  Don  Lazarillo  was 
not  to  pass  another  night  aboard  La  Casandra. 
And,  indeed,  seeing  what  waters  we  were  now  navi- 
gating, it  would  have  been  extraordinary,  a  thing 
beyond  all  average  seafaring  experience,  had  hour 
after  hour  rolled  by  without  bringing  us  a  sight  of 
a  sail.  I  was  eating  some  dinner,  at  half-past  one 
o'clock,  in  the  cabin,  when  Butler  put  his  head  into 
the  skylight  and  called  down : 

"Mr.  Portlack,  there's  a  small  vessel  standing 
almost  direct  for  us  out  of  the  south'ard  and 
west'ard — bound  in,  apparently,  for  the  Portugal 
coast.     Shall  we  signal  her  ? " 

"  Ay,  certainly,"  cried  I.  "  Heave  the  schooner 
to,  and  run  the  ensign  aloft.  I'll  be  with  you  pres- 
ently." 


DON  LAZARILLO   LEAVES   US.  211 

In  about  ten  minutes'  time  I  finished  my  dinner, 
swallowed  a  bumper  of  the  noble  Burgundy  which 
had  been  stowed  aft  for  the  consumption  of  the 
Spaniards,  lighted  one  of  the  fine  Havana  cigars,  of 
which  there  was  a  locker  half  full,  and,  exchanging 
a  sentence  with  Trapp,  whose  turn  it  was  to  keep 
watch  on  Miss  ISToble,  went  on  deck.  Not  above 
three  miles  distant,  and  heading,  as  it  seemed,  direct- 
ly for  us,  was  a  square-rigged  vessel,  a  little  brig,  as 
she  subsequently  proved.  Her  canvas  glanced  like 
satin  in  the  sun  as  she  rolled.  She  was  coming 
leisurely  along  under  all  plain  sail.  There  was  a 
color  blowing  at  her  main  royalmast  head,  where 
alone  it  would  have  been  visible  to  us,  and  on  see- 
ing it  through  a  glass  I  made  it  out  to  be  the  Portu- 
guese ensign. 

Don  Lazarillo  was  on  deck,  swathed  in  his  long 
Spanish  cloak,  and  wearing  on  his  head  a  large  An- 
dalusian  hat.  He  looked  like  a  bandit  in  an  opera. 
Mariana,  whose  head  was  adorned  by  a  long  blue 
cap,  shaped  like  the  night-caps  men  used  to  sleep  in 
when  I  was  a  boy,  watched  the  approaching  craft 
from  his  favorite  skulking-hole,  the  caboose  door. 

"  She  veel  do,  I  hope ! "  cried  Don  Lazarillo,  on 
catching  sight  of  me,  motioning  toward  the  brig 
with  a  theatrical  gesture. 


212     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  I  hope  so,  indeed,"  said  I,  earnestly.  "  But," 
cried  1,  happening  to  direct  my  eyes  at  our  gaff 
end,  where  flew  not  the  English  but  the  Spanish 
colors,  "  what  have  you  got  hoisted  there,  Butler  ? " 

"  The  only  ensign  aboard,  sir,"  he  answered. 

"  Upon  my  word  !  Yet  I  might  have  supposed 
80.  La  Casandra  is  a  Spaniard,  to  all  intents  and 
purposes.  So  much  the  better,"  I  added,  as  I  sent 
another  glance  at  the  flag  we  were  flying.  "  The 
Portuguese  may  be  more  willing  to  obhge  the 
people  of  that  flag's  nationality  than  those  whose 
rag  is  the  red,  white,  and  blue." 

The  schooner  had  been  hove  to,  thrown  head  to 
wind,  her  square  canvas  being  furled,  and  nothing 
was  to  be  heard  but  the  slopping  sound  of  waters 
alongside  and  the  straining  noises  of  the  fabric  as 
she  leaned  to  the  swell,  while  silently  and  eagerly 
we  kept  our  eyes  fastened  upon  the  coming  Portu- 
guese brig.  She  drew  close  to  windward,  put  her 
helm  down,  backed  her  maintop-sail  yard,  and  lay 
within  hailing  distance — a  prettier  model  than  ever 
I  should  have  thought  to  see  flying  her  colors,  clean 
in  rig,  and  her  canvas  fitting  her  well.  The  white 
water  raced  fountain-like  from  her  bows  as  she 
courtesied,  ripples  of  light  ran  like  thrills  through 
her  black,   wet  sides,   and   there  was  a  frequent 


DON   LAZARILLO  LEAVES  US.  213 

leap  of  white  fire  from  the  brass  and  glass  along 
her  quarter-deck. 

A  tall,  gaunt  man,  whose  features  were  just 
distinguishable,  got  upon  the  rail,  and,  holding  on 
by  a  back-stay,  pulled  off  his  red  cap  and  hailed  us 
in  Portuguese.  Don  Lazarillo  looked  round  to 
observe  if  anybody  meant  to  answer  him ;  then 
exclaiming,  "  I  understand  ;  I  speak  his  language," 
he  shouted  an  answer — but  an  answer  that  seemed 
a  fathom  long ;  in  fact,  there  was  room  in  Don 
Lazarillo's  response  to  the  Portuguese  skipper's 
hail  for  the  whole  story  of  our  adventure.  Mariana 
came  and  stood  alongside  the  Don.  Many  cries 
were  exchanged ;  the  gestures  were  frequent  and 
often  frantic.  Presently  the  Portuguese  skipper 
dropped  on  to  his  deck,  and  Don  Lazarillo  bade 
Mariana  inform  me  that  the  man  meant  to  come 
aboard.  In  a  few  minutes  the  Portuguese  brig 
lowered  a  boat ;  her  gaunt  skipper  entered  it, 
accompanied  by  a  couple  of  men,  and  pulled  the 
little  craft  alongside  of  us. 

I  had  never  beheld  so  strange  a  figure  as  that 
Portuguese  skipper.  His  face  was  little  more  than 
that  of  a  skull,  the  flesh  of  which  resembled  the 
skin  of  an  old  drum  where  it  is  darkened  by  the 
beating  of  the  sticks ;    it  lay  in  ridges,  as  though 


214     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

badly  pasted  on,  and  these  ridges  looked  to  have 
become  iron-hard  through  exposure  to  the  weather. 
His  eyes  were  large,  intensely  black,  and  horribly 
deep  sunk,  and  glowed  with  what  might  well  have 
been  the  fire  of  fever.  Don  Lazarillo  pronounced 
some  words,  haughtily  motioning  to  me ;  on  which 
the  Portuguese  skipper  gave  me  such  a  bow  as  a 
skeleton  would  make,  and  I  pulled  off  my  hat. 
Then  the  Spaniard  addressed  Mariana,  who,  accost- 
ing me  in  his  extraordinary  English,  said  that  Don 
Lazarillo  desired  to  know  if  it  should  be  left  to 
him  to  conduct  this  business  of  their  quitting  the 
schooner.  I  answered,  "  Certainly."  I  had  no  wish 
to  interfere  at  all ;  nor  could  I  be  of  the  slightest 
use  to  them,  not  knowing  a  syllable  of  their  tongues. 
On  this  Don  Lazarillo  took  the  Portuguese  skipper 
into  the  cabin,  and  with  them  went  the  cook. 

After  a  few  moments  I  heard  the  sound  of  a 
cork  drawn ;  this  was  followed  by  much  animated 
conversation ;  but  I  did  not  choose  to  show  myself 
at  the  skylight  under  which  they  w^ere  seated,  and 
their  accents  reached  my  ear  faintly.  I  said  to 
Butler,  with  a  smile  : 

"  I  hope  the  Don  isn't  conspiring  with  the 
Portusral  man  to  seize  the  schooner." 

"  Lord  bless  ye,  Mr.    Portlack,"   he  answered 


DON  LAZARILLO  LEAVES  US.  215 

witli  a  grin.  "  How  many  of  tlie  likes  of  them 
chaps  in  the  boat  over  the  side  down  there  would 
be  needed  for  such  a  job  as  that  ? " 

And  a  grimy,  wretched  brace  of  men  they 
were;  yellow  as  mustard,  and  dark  for  want  of 
soap,  clad  in  costumes  of  rags,  the  lower  extremities 
of  which  were  kept  together  by  being  thrust  into 
half- Wellington  boots,  bronzed  with  brine. 

"  Where  are  you  from  ? "  I  shouted. 

They  were  squatting  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat 
like  monkeys,  and  their  manner  of  looking  upward 
was  exactly  that  of  monkeys — swift,  their  gleaming 
eyes  restless,  and  a  queer  puckering  of  their  leather 
lips  that  seemed  a  grin.  They  understood  me,  and 
one  answered,  "  Bahia." 

"  Where  are  you  bound  to  ?  " 

"  Lisbon." 

I  tried  them  with  one  or  two  more  questions, 
but  to  no  purpose.  After  the  lapse  of  some  twenty 
minutes  Mariana  came  out  of  the  cabin,  and  said 
that  Don  Lazarillo  begged  I  would  be  so  good  as 
to  send  two  seamen  below  to  convey  his  effects 
into  the  boat. 

"  Certainly,"  I  answered,  and  ordered  a  couple 
of  men  to  attend  upon  the  Spaniard.  Guessing 
that    the    Don's   effects    would    be    comparatively 


216     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

trifling,  I  could  not  imagine  wliy  he  required  the 
services  of  two  men  in  addition  to  the  cook's  help ; 
until,  after  a  little,  first  one  sailor  made  his 
appearance  with  his  arms  full  of  boxes  of  cigars, 
then  the  second  sailor  arrived  with  a  case  of  wine, 
then  Mariana  came  on  deck  with  bags  and  valises 
belonging  to  the  two  Dons.  These  articles  were 
lianded  into  the  boat,  and  the  seamen  and  the  cook 
returned  for  more.  It  was  clearlj  Don  Lazarillo's 
intention  to  carry  off  as  much  as  the  Portuguese 
boat  would  hold,  and  by  and  by  she  was  lying 
alongside  deep  with  wine,  cigars,  a  chest,  as  I 
supposed,  of  the  silver  plate,  and  a  variety  of  other 
portable  articles. 

Don  Lazarillo  then  came  up  with  the  Portuguese 
captain.  They  went  to  the  side  and  looked  over 
at  the  boat,  and  the  Portuguese  captain  hailed  the 
men  in  her,  and  some  unintelligible  talk  followed. 
The  boat  was  then  drawn  under  the  gangway  by 
the  two  fellows,  and  without  a  syllable,  but  with 
one  deadly  glance  of  malice  at  me,  Don  Lazarillo 
entered  her.  Mariana,  throwing  a  bundle  into  her, 
followed.  The  Portuguese  skipper  then  sprang, 
and  the  boat  shoved  off. 

Fortunately  for  her  inmates,  the  surface  of  the 
sea  flashed  and  feathered  in  ripples  only,  for  the 


DON  LAZARILLO  LEAVES  US.  217 

spite  or  avarice  of  the  Spaniard  liad  so  loaded 
the  boat  that  it  needed  but  a  very  little  weight  in 
the  movement  of  the  water  to  swamp  and  founder 
her  out  of  hand. 

When  her  two  oars  had  impelled  her  a  pistol- 
shot  distant  from  us,  Don  Lazarillo  stood  up  and 
proceeded  to  harangue  me  in  Spanish,  with  both 
arms  raised  and  both  fists  cKnched.  He  rapidly 
worked  liimself  into  a  white  heat  of  passion ;  his 
voice  rose  into  a  penetrating  shriek.  That  he  was 
heaping  upon  my  head  every  malediction  which 
the  language  of  his  country,  rich  in  grotesquely  in- 
jurious terms,  could  supply  him  with,  I  did  not 
doubt.  I  picked  up  a  telescope  and  looked  at  his 
face  through  it,  which  cool,  provoking  act  so  height- 
ened the  madness  of  his  wrath  that  he  fell  to  sway- 
ing and  toppling  about  after  the  manner  of  a  man 
delirious  with  drink  ;  wliereupon  the  Portuguese 
captain,  wlio  had  sat  stolidly  looking  up  at  him, 
to  save  his  own  and  the  lives  of  the  others — for  the 
boat  dangerously  swayed  to  the  Don's  ecstatic  gest- 
ures— struck  him  behind  in  the  bend  of  his  legs 
with  the  sharp  of  his  hand,  and  Don  Lazarillo  van- 
ished in  a  twinkling  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 
A  roar  of  laughter  went  up  from  our  men. 

"  Trim  sail,  lads,  and  then  heap  it  on  her,"  I 


218     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

called  out ;  and,  even  as  the  boat  lay  alongside  the 
brig,  with  the  people  in  her  handing  up  Don  Laza- 
rillo's  little  cargo,  the  Casandra,  yielding  to  the  im- 
pulse of  her  broad  and  lofty  cloths,  was  ripping 
through  it  to  the  southward  and  eastward,  the  brine 
spitting  at  her  stem,  and  the  shapely  little  Portu- 
guese brig  veering  astern  into  a  Lilliputian  toy,  her 
white  canvas  resembling  a  hovering  butterfly  in  the 
confused,  misty,  and  broken  fires  of  the  sun's  reflec- 
tion upon  the  ocean  in  the  south-west. 


CHAPTEE  YIIL 

IDA    NOBLE. 

"  OuK  turn  next,  sir,"  exclaimed  Butler,  coming 
away  from  the  rail,  where  he  had  been  standing  for 
a  minute  looking  at  the  brig  under  his  hand. 

"Yes,  I  shall  be  sorry  to  lose  you,"  said  I; 
"but  what  must  be,  must  be,  and  you've  made  up 
your  minds." 

"  Ay,  sir.  It  is  right  and  proper,  indeed,  that 
you  should  carry  the  poor  lady  home ;  and  gladly 
would  we  help  ye  if  we  durst.     But  after  what's 

happened "      He    violently    shook     his     head. 

"  How  far  d'ye  reckon  the  coast  of  Cadiz  to  be  dis- 
tant, sir  ? " 

"  Call  it  four  days  at  this  rate  of  sailing,"  said 
I.  Then,  looking  at  him,  I  continued  :  "  I  wish  you 
men  would  change  your  minds,  and  let  me  set  you 
ashore  north  of  Ushant." 

I  was  proceeding  to  explain  my  reason,  but  he 
arrested  me  by  an  emphatic,  "  No,  sir.     Let  it  be 


220     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

Cadiz,  if  you  please.  The  fiirtlier  away  tlie  better. 
All  us  men  have  friends  at  Cadiz,  and  there  are 
other  reasons  for  our  deciding  upon  that  port." 

I  went  below  to  see  what  Don  Lazarillo  had  left 
behind  him.  The  negro  lad  sat  in  a  chair  keejjing 
that  watch  in  the  cabin  which  we  continued  to 
maintain  spite  of  the  girl's  wonderful  death-like 
sleep.  It  would  have  been  easy,  indeed,  to  have 
padlocked  or  in  other  ways  secured  the  door ;  but 
then,  if  the  door  had  been  thus  secured,  our  vigi- 
lance would  certainly  have  been  relaxed :  in  which 
case  there  was  the  chance  of  the  cabin  being  empty 
at  the  moment  when  her  consciousness  returned, 
and,  consequently,  nobody  at  hand  to  arrest  any 
dangerous  behavior  in  her. 

I  found  that  Don  Lazarillo  had  emptied  the 
locker  of  its  cigars.  The  negro  boy  told  me  that 
the  Spaniard  had  also  carried  away  the  wine  which 
had  lain  stowed  in  the  lazaretto.  But  there  was 
nothing  to  grieve  me  in  this  news ;  there  were 
pipes  and  tobacco  on  board,  and  a  plentiful  stock 
of  cheap  wine  for  the  use  of  the  sailors.  I  entered 
Don  Christoval's  cabin  and  found  nothing  but  the 
bedding  left.  The  clothes  of  the  dead  man  had 
been  packed  and  conveyed  to  the  brig.  There  was 
a  chest  of  drawers,  and  in  a  corner  stood  a  small 


IDA   NOBLE.  221 

table  with  drawers  ;  these  I  ransacked,  with  a  faint 
fancy  or  hope  of  meeting  with  some  forgotten  let- 
ter, some  diary  or  document  which  Don  Lazarillo 
had  nesclected  to  take,  and  which  might  throw  some 
fresh  light  upon  this  extraordinary  expedition. 
But  every  drawer  was  empty. 

I  was  standing  lost  in  thought,  with  my  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  vacant  bunk  or  sleeping-shelf,  mus- 
ing upon  the  incidents  of  the  past  few  days,  and 
wondering  into  what  sort  of  issue  my  hand  was  to 
shape  this  adventure,  when  I  was  startled  by  an  ex- 
traordinary cry,  scarcely  less  alarming  in  its  way 
than  the  death-scream  that  had  been  uttered  by 
Don  Christoval.  It  was  such  a  cry  as  a  wounded 
savage  might  deliver.  Before  I  could  reach  the 
door  of  the  berth  the  negro  boy  rushed  in. 

'•  Oh,  massa,"  he  panted,  "  dah  lady's  looking  out." 

My  impression  was  that  he  had  been  stabbed. 
"  Are  you  hurt  ? "  I  exclaimed,  grasping  him  by  the 
arm. 

"  Is^o,  sah  !  " 

"  Wlio  shrieked  just  now  ?  " 

"  I  did,  sah." 

I  cuffed  him  over  his  woolly  head  to  clear  him 
out  of  my  road,  and  stepped  into  the  cabin.  Miss 
Noble,  with  the  handle  of  the    cabin  door  in  her 


222      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

grasp,  stood  looking  out  witli  an  expression  upon 
lier  face  of  sueli  utter  bewilderment  that  but  for 
lier  costume  and  my  knowing  she  was  the  sole  oc- 
cupant of  her  room,  I  should  not  have  recognized 
her.  A  person  watching  the  motions  of  a  gliding 
apparition,  Itnowing  it  to  be  a  ghost,  beckon- 
ing, stalking,  compelling,  might  very  well  be  sup- 
posed to  stare  as  that  girl  did.  Her  eyes  slowly 
rolled  over  the  interior,  as  though  the  organ  of  vis- 
ion, stupefied  by  bewilderment,  was  scarcely  capa- 
ble of  effort.  She  was  deadly  pale,  yet,  spite  of  the 
withering  influence  of  her  astonishment  upon  her 
features,  I  seemed  to  find  an  expression  of  intelli- 
gence in  them  that  most  certainly  was  not  to  be 
witnessed  before.  She  breathed  swiftly.  One  side 
of  her  hair  was  now  entirely  unfastened,  and  the 
heavy  mass  of  the  dark  red  tresses  lay  upon  her 
shoulder  and  upon  her  bosom.  I  instantly  looked  at 
her  idle  hand  ;  it  held  nothing. 

I  surveyed  her  a  little,  wondering  whether  she 
would  speak  ;  whether  reason  had  been  restored  to 
her ;  whether  there  might  not  happen  at  any  beat 
of  the  i^ulse  a  sudden  horrible  transformation  in 
her,  a  new  and  blacker  exhibition  of  insanity.  Her 
dark  eyes  came  to  mine  ;  there  was  an  expression  of 
terror  in  them.     She  pressed  her  hand  to  her  fore- 


IDA   NOBLE.  223 

head,  and  looked  down  as  though  she  would  sharpen 
her  sight  by  averting  it  for  a  moment  from  the  ob- 
ject at  which  she  gazed,  then  looked  at  me  again, 
pleadingly,  eagerly,  and  fearfully. 

"  Do  not  you  know  where  you  are,  Miss  No- 
ble ? "  said  I,  in  the  most  careless,  matter-of-fact 
manner  I  could  put  on. 

"  I  am  trying  to  think,"  she  answered. 

"  Pray  give  me  your  hand,"  said  I. 

She  extended  it  as  a  child  mig-ht.  I  led  her  to 
an  arm-chair  and  gently  obliged  her  to  sit.  A  de- 
canter half-full  of  sherry  stood  in  the  swing-tray. 
I  poured  a  little  of  the  wine  into  a  glass,  and  pre- 
sented it  to  her ;  she  took  it  and  drank.  Her  be- 
havior and  looks  were  absolutely  rational,  clouded 
as  they  were  by  a  bewilderment  which  her  eyes  ap- 
peared to  express  as  hopeless.  She  had  been  fast- 
ing for  many  hours,  and  I  was  sure  I  could  not  do 
better  than  make  her  take  food.  I  beckoned  to 
Tom,  who  stood  staring  at  the  lady  from  the  other 
end  of  the  cabin.  He  approached,  though  he  kept 
the  table  between  him  and  Miss  ISToble.  Her  bewil- 
derment visibly  deepened  as  her  eyes  rested  on  his 
black  face.  I  directed  him  to  obtain  the  most  deli- 
cate refreshments  which  the  cabin  larder  of  the 
schooner  yielded,  and  to  bear  a  hand. 


224     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  You  have  been  long  asleep,"  said  I,  gently. 
"  You  were  unconscious  when  you  were  brought 
aboard  this  vessel — for  you  know  now  that  you  are 
at  sea — and  you  must  not  wonder  that  you  are  be- 
wildered on  waking  to  find  yourself  in  this  strange 
scene." 

"  Where  am  I  ?  "  she  asked,  in  a  voice  that  was 
but  a  little  above  a  whisper,  so  breathless  was  she 
with  continued  surprise. 

"  You  are  on  board  a  schooner  called  La  Casan- 
dra.  I  am  acting  as  her  captain.  We  are  now 
making  haste  to  return  to  England,  to  restore  you  to 
your  home." 

"  England — home  ?  "  she  muttered,  looking  at 
me,  then  around  her,  then  down  at  the  dressing- 
gown  she  was  robed  in,  then  pulling  a  sleeve  of 
the  gown  a  little  way  up  the  arm  and  gazing  at 
the  bracelets  upon  her  wrists.  "  Why  am  I  here  ? " 
she  exclaimed,  drawing  a  breath  that  sounded  like 
a  sob. 

"  Will  you  not  wait  till  you  have  eaten  a  trifle  ? 
Nothing  has  passed  your  lips  for  very  many  hours. 
As  strength  returns,  your  memory  will  brighten, 
and  I  know  I  shall  make  you  happy  by  the  assur- 
ance I  am  able  to  give  you." 

"  Why  am  I  here  ?  "  she  repeated. 


IDA  NOBLE.  225 

I  considered  it  wise  to  liiunor  her :  but  to  hu- 
mor her  I  must  tell  the  truth. 

"  You  are  here,"  said  I,  "  because  two  Span- 
iards —  one  of  them  named  Don  Christoval  del 
Padron,  and  the  other  styled  Don  Lazarillo  de 
Tonnes — went  ashore  near  your  father's  estate,  on 
the  coast  of  Cumberland,  accompanied  by  a  crew  of 
armed  sailors,  and  forcibly  stole  you  away  from 
your  home,  carrying  you  in  a  state  of  insensibility 
to  a  boat." 

She  interrupted  me  at  this  point  by  crying  out, 
**  Yes,  yes,  now  I  remember,  now  I  remember."  She 
clasped  her  hands  and  half  rose,  repeating,  "  Yes, 
yes,  now  I  remember,"  staring  past  me  wildly  as 
she  spoke,  as  though  she  addressed  some  one  at  the 
other  end  of  the  cabin ;  then  burying  her  face  in 
her  hands  she  sat  in  silence,  rocking  herself  in  the 
throes  of  a  conflict  with  memory. 

I  stood  looking  on,  waiting  for  nature  to  have 

her  way  with  her.     The  seamen,  having  got  wand 

of  her  awakening,  had  collected  at  the  skylight  and 

were  looking  down ;  but  fearing  that  the  sight  of 

them  might  terrify  her,  I  dispersed  the  group  of 

dark  and  hairy  faces  with  an  angry  gesture.     Tom 

arrived  with  a  tray  of  refreshments.     I  dispatched 

him  on  deck  to  inform  Butler  and  the  others  that 
15 


226      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

the  lady  had  returned  to  consciousness ;  that  her 
reason  had  awakened  with  her,  and  that  she  was 
now  as  sane  as  any  of  us,  but  that  they  were  to 
keep  quiet  and  to  hold  their  heads  out  of  view. 

Presently  the  girl  looked  up  ;  she  was  weeping, 
but  so  silently  that  I  did  not  know  she  was  crying 
until  I  saw  her  face. 

"  It  has  all  come  back  to  me,"  she  exclaimed  in 
a  broken  voice,  and  shuddering  violently.  "  Did 
you  tell  me  you  Avere  taking  me  home  ? " 

"  Yes,  Miss  Noble,  you  are  going  home." 

"  Will  it  be  long  before  we  arrive  home  ? " 

"  Not  very  long." 

"And  what  has  happened  to  me  since  I  have 
been  here?"  said  she,  looking  again  down  at  the 
rich  crimson  dressing-gown  she  was  habited  in. 

"  You  have  been  in  a  sort  of  stupor,"  I  an- 
swered, "  but  you  have  awakened  strong  and  well ; 
or  let  me  say,  in  a  very  little  while  you  will  be 
strong  and  well.  But  you  must  eat,  if  you  please, 
and  while  you  eat  you  shall  ask  any  questions  you 
like,  and  I  will  answer  you." 

I  put  the  plate  beside  her,  and  noticed  with 
gladness  that  she  eyed  it  somewhat  wistfully.  In- 
deed, if  anybody  were  ever  nearly  starved,  she  was  ; 
though  medical  men  to  whom  I  have  stated  her  case 


IDA  NOBLE.  227 

have  since  told  me  that  persons  visited  with  these 
extraordinary  fits  of  shimber  can  live  for  days,  and 
even  for  weeks,  without  food. 

Tom  had  been  careful  not  to  put  a  knife  on  the 
tray ;  but  there  was  a  fork,  and  with  it  I  placed  a 
thin  slice  of  ham  between  two  white  biscuits  and 
presented  this  sea-sandwich  to  her,  and  she  began 
to  eat.  She  ate  the  whole  of  it,  and  then  I  made 
her  another  and  gave  her  a  little  more  sherry,  and 
now  I  could  observe  how  excellently  this  refresh 
ment  served  her  as  medicine ;  for  every  moment 
seemed  to  diminish  something  of  her  bewilderment, 
while  intelligence  brightened  in  her  eyes,  and  a 
very  faint  bloom  from  the  improved  action  of  her 
heart  sifted  into  her  complexion 

Suddenly,  Math  a  start,  and  with  a  wild  and  ter- 
rified look  around  the  cabin,  she  asked  me  where  the 
two  Spaniards  were.  The  idea  of  them,  borne  on 
the  current  of  the  thoughts  and  fancies  flowing 
through  her  brain,  had,  as  I  might  judge,  but  that 
instant  entered  her  consciousness.  Now  it  was  not 
to  be  supposed  that  I  could  tell  her  she  had  with 
her  own  hand  slain  one  of  those  Spaniards ;  and  no 
purpose,  therefore,  could  be  served  by  informing 
her  that  one  of  them  was  dead. 

"  They  have  left  the  vessel,"  I  answered. 


228  THE  TRAGEDY   OF  IDA   NOBLE. 

"  "Will  tliey  return  ? "  she  cried. 

"  No,  indeed ;  I  will  take  care  of  that.  You 
need  not  fear  that  they  will  trouble  you  any  more." 

Her  countenance  relaxed  its  expression  of  ter- 
ror, and  her  eyes  met  mine  with  a  soft  and  touching 
look  of  gratitude  in  them.  She  then  sighed  deeply, 
and  pressed  her  hand  to  her  forehead. 

"  Pray,  Miss  Noble,  tell  me  how  you  feel  ? " 
said  I. 

"  My  head  swims,"  she  answered.  "  The  motion 
of  this  vessel  affects  me." 

Now  that  might  well  have  been  so,  strange  as  it 
may  seem.  She  would  suffer  from  sea-sickness 
neither  in  her  trance  nor  in  her  madness ;  but  now 
that  both  were  passed,  now  that  her  real  nature  was 
re-established  in  her,  she  must  needs  begin  to  suffer 
as  she  would  have  suffered  from  this  same  sea-sick- 
ness at  the  beginning  of  the  voyage  had  she  been 
brought  on  board  in  her  senses.  It  seemed  to  me  a 
most  wholesome,  reassuring  sign,  though  I  would 
not  say  so,  for  I  desired  to  preserve  her  from  all 
suspicion  of  the  hideous  state  she  had  passed 
through. 

"  Suppose,"  said  I,  "  that  you  lie  down  and  en- 
deavor to  obtain  some  sleep.  Wliat  you  have  awak- 
ened from  was  stupor,  and  there  can  be  no  refresh- 


IDA  NOBLE.  229 

ment  in  stupor.     A  few  hours  of  wholesome,  natu- 
ral rest  are  sure  to  work  wonders." 

She  rose  in  silence,  but  with  consent  in  her  eyes. 
Observing  that  her  movements  were  unsteady,  I 
gently  held  her  arm  and  directed  her  steps  to  her 
berth.  She  got  into  her  bunk,  and  I  paused  to  in- 
quire if  there  was  anything  1  could  do  for  her. 

"  Kothing,"  she  answered  in  a  low  'voice.  "  I 
am  grateful  for  your  kindness.  Everything  has 
come  back  to  me.  Oh,  yes,  I  now  remember  that 
dreadful  night — that  dreadful  night !  But  you  are 
not  deceiving  me  ? " 

"  In  what  ? " 

"You  tell  me  that  Don  Christoval  and  his 
friend  are  not  in  this  vessel." 

"  Rest  your  poor  heart,  Madame.  I  swear  to  you 
as  an  English  seaman  that  they  are  out  of  this  ves- 
sel, and  that  you  will  never  be  troubled  by  them 
again." 

"  "Where  are  they  ? "  she  asked. 

"  We  will  talk  about  them  by  and  by." 

She  closed  her  eyes,  and  I  stood  beside  her  a  few 
minutes,  then  went  out,  calling  to  Tom  to  come  and 
keep  watch,  with  a  threat  to  rope's-end  him  if  he 
shrieked  again  should  the  lady  suddenly  show  her- 
self, for  that  she  was  now  as  sane  as  he  or  I  was. 


230     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

I  went  on  deck  heartily  rejoiced  bj  this  restora- 
tion of  the  poor  lady's  mind.  It  cleared  me  of  a 
heavy  load  of  anxiety.  'Now  I  could  contemplate 
taking  charge  of  the  schooner  with  only  Tom  to 
help  me  until  I  could  procure  further  assistance : 
this  I  could  think  of  without  half  the  misgiving 
which  before  worked  in  me  when  my  mind  went  to 
it.  On  my  showing  myself,  Butler,  who  was  in 
charge,  immediately  approached  me. 

"  I  see  the  poor  lady's  woke  up  at  last,  sir." 

"Yes,"  said  I. 

"And  Tom  says  she  has  her  intellect  sound 
again." 

"  It  is  true,  and  thank  God  for  it,"  said  I. 

"  Strange,  Mr.  Portlack,"  said  he,  after  biting 
for  a  moment  or  two  meditatively  on  the  piece  of 
tobacco  in  his  cheek,  "that  the  poor  lady  should 
come  to  just  at  the  time  that  there  Spaniard  goes 
oft",  as  one  might  say.  There's  a  tarm  to  fit  the 
likes  of  such  a  traverse,  but  I  forgets  it." 

"  A  coincidence,"  said  I. 

"  Well,  that'll  do,  I  dessay,  though  there's  another 
word  a-running  in  my  head.  And  how  do  the  lady 
relish  the  notion  of  having  stuck  the  big  Span-' 
iard  ?  " 

"  Now  listen  to  me,  Butler,"  said  I,  "  and  repeat 


IDA  NOBLE.  231 

wliat  I  am  about  to  tell  to  your  mates  in  the 
most  powerful  voice  you  can  command,  and  in  the 
strongest  words  you  can  employ.  Under  no  circum- 
stances whatever,  on  no  consideration  whatever, 
must  the  lady  be  given  to  know  that  she  cormn.itted 
that  act.  Tell  her  of  it,  and  in  all  probability  you 
will  drive  her  mad  for  good  and  all." 

"  There's  no  fear  of  any  of  us  ever  a-telling  her 
of  it,"  he  replied,  with  a  sort  of  sulky  astonishment 
working  in  his  face  at  the  energy  with  which  I  had 
addressed  him  ;  "  but  she'll  have  to  hear  of  it  some 
of  these  days,  won't  she,  sir  ? " 

"  Not  from  us,"  said  I,  "  and  therefore  what  is 
going  to  happen  some  of  these  da^'S  will  be  no  busi- 
ness of  ours." 

"  That's  true  enough,"  said  he. 

"  There  is  another  point  that  may  be  worth  our 
consideration.  Briefly,  the  lady  has  now  her  senses ; 
she  has  a  clear  eye,  and  may  very  likely  prove  to 
have  a  keen  memory.  I  will  take  care  that  your 
names  arc  not  known  to  her ;  and  should  she  ever 
come  on  deck  while  you  remain  on  board,  I  would 
advise  you  and  your  mates  to  show  as  little  of 
yourselves  as  tlie  navigation  of  the  ship  will 
suffef." 

He  looked  thoughtful,  and  fell  to  stroking  his 


232     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

chin,  "  Yes,  by  thunder !  Mr.  Portlack,  you're 
right,"  he  exclaimed.  "  If  she  gets  to  hear  our 
names,  and  is  able  to  describe  us,  why !  Tell  ye 
what  it  is,  sir :  the  sooner  we  five  men  are  off,  the 
better ;  and  until  we've  cleared  out,  I  hope  you 
won't  encourage  her  to  come  on  deck  too  often." 

Having  tasted  no  food  for  some  hours,  I  went 
below,  and  dispatched  Tom  to  procure  me  some  sup- 
per. Wliile  he  waited  upon  me  the  following  con- 
versation took  place  between  us : 

"  You  must  never  at  any  time,  or  on  any  occa- 
sion, say,  either  aboard  this  schooner  or  ashore,  that 
the  lady  in  the  cabin  yonder  killed  the  Spaniard." 

"  No,  sah." 

"  If  you  do,  you  and  I,  who  are  to  convey  this 
lady  home,  will  be  charged  as  accomplices  in  the 
awful  crime  of  bloody  murder." 

"  I'll  1)0  berry  car'fu',  sir." 

"  A  single  hint  from  you  might  lead  to  you  and 
me  being  hanged  by  the  neck  until  we  are  dead. 
On  the  other  hand,  if  you  keep  silent,  I  will  take 
care  that  you  are  rewarded ;  and  if  you  have  had 
enough  of  the  sea,  I  dare  say  the  friends  of  the 
lady  will  find  you  some  comfortable  berth  ashore." 

The  lad's  black  face  was  somewhat  complicated 
by    expression.      There   was   mingled    fright    and 


IDA  NOBLE.  233 

delight  in  his  wide  grin  and  the  stare  of  his  large, 
bland,  dusky  African  eyes. 

"Mind!"  said  I. 

And  here  let  nie  own  that  my  desire  that  the 
murder  of  the  Spaniard  should  be  kept,  a  profound 
secret  was  largely — indeed  almost  wholly — a  selfish 
one.  For,  first,  I  never  doubted  that,  if  the  girl 
came  to  hear  of  what  she  had  done,  the  thought  of 
it  working  in  a  brain  still  weak  with  recent  crazi- 
ness  would  render  her  incurably  mad,  and  so  im- 
measurably increase  my  present  anxieties  and  the 
trouble  I  should  be  put  to  to  carry  her  home, 
l^ext,  I  wished  the  dreadful  deed  kept  secret,  since 
this  singular  expedition  having  caused  me  trouble 
and  grief  enough  already  upon  the  high  seas,  I  was 
by  no  means  anxious  that  darker  worries  should 
grow  out  of  it  on  my  arrival  on  shore. 

I  saw  nothing  of  the  lady  that  evening,  nor,  in- 
deed, throughout  the  night.  Two  or  three  times  I 
knocked  upon  her  door  to  inquire  if  she  needed 
anything,  and  once  only  she  answered.  Her  reply 
satisfied  me  that  her  mind  was  hers  again ;  that, 
in  short,  there  had  been  no  relapse  since  I  had 
left  her.  However,  to  provide  against  all  risk,  I 
arranged  that  the  seamen  should  keep  a  look-out  in 
the  cabin  as  heretofore. 


234     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

I  had  charge  of  the  deck  from  four  till  eight. 
It  blew  continually  a  fine  breeze  of  wind,  and  hour 
after  hour  the  schooner  swept  through  it  as  though 
driven  by  powerful  engines.  I  guessed,  if  the  ves- 
sel maintained  her  present  rate  of  sailing,  that  the 
men  would  be  enabled  to  leave  me  before  forty- 
eight  hours  had  passed.  Daybreak  showed  us  sev- 
eral ships  on  the  sea  line.  They  were  all  of  them 
small  vessels,  and  standing,  with  the  exception  of 
one,  to  the  north.  The  man  Scott,  who  was  at  the 
helm,  said  that  it  was  a  pity  his  mates  could  not  see 
their  way  to  transshipping  themselves  aboard  a 
craft,  instead  of  making  for  Cadiz  in  the  cutter. 

"  Why  don't  you  stop  with  me  ? "  said  I. 

"  'No,  no  ! "  he  exclaimed. 

"  But  listen.  Could  not  we  three — you,  me,  and 
the  negro  boy — carry  the  schooner  into  Penzance, 
say,  where  you  might  go  ashore  at  once,  take  the 
coach  for  London,  and  vanish  much  more  entirely 
than  ever  you  will  by  going  to  Cadiz  ? " 

"  ^o,  sir,  no  ;  there's  to  be  no  going  home  with 
me.  I  should  be  a  fool  to  trust  myself  in  England. 
I'm  too  respectable  a  man  to  live  in  any  country 
where  I'm  '  wanted.'  " 

"  Well,  then,"  said  I,  "  Butler's  scheme  of  the 
cutter  and  of  Cadiz  is  the  practicable  one,  and  you 


IDA  NOBLE.  235 

must  adopt  it.  You  talk  of  mj  transsliipping  you. 
What  story  am  I  to  tell  the  captain  whom  I  ask  to 
receive  you  ?  You  don't  look  like  mutineers,  and 
not  one  of  you  is  clever  enough  to  act  such  a  part  as 
would  enable  me  to  spin  my  yarn  without  exciting 
suspicion.  Now,  suspicion  is  the  last  thing  we  wish 
to  excite." 

"  True,  sir,"  said  Scott. 

It  was  about  a  quarter  before  eight  when  the 
negro  boy,  who  had  been  preparing  the  table  for  my 
breakfast,  came  on  deck  to  tell  me  that  the  lady  was 
in  the  cabin.  I  looked  through  the  skylight  and 
beheld  her  sitting  in  an  arm-chair.  She  saw  me,  and 
bowed  with  a  slight  smile.  I  lifted  the  lid  of  the 
skylight  that  I  might  converse  with  her,  and  called 
down,  "  Good  morning,  Miss  Noble.  I  hope  you 
are  feeling  very  much  better  ? " 

"  I  am  very  much  better,  thank  you,"  she  an- 
swered, in  a  voice  soft  indeed,  but  whose  tone  and 
firmness  were  ample  warrant  of  returning  strength. 

"I  hope  to  join  you  shortly.  My  watch  on  deck 
expires  in  a  few  minutes.  It  is  a  fine  bright  morn- 
ing and  there  is  a  noble  sailing  breeze,  and  the 
schooner  is  going  through  the  water  like  a  witch." 

"  I  should  like  to  go  on  deck,"  she  said,  "  but  I 
have  no  covering  for  my  head." 


236      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

I  recommended  her  to  wait  till  after  breakfast, 
when  we  would  go  to  work  to  see  what  the  schooner 
could  yield  her  in  the  shape  of  head-gear  ;  and  short- 
ly afterward,  on  Butler  arriving  to  relieve  me,  I 
joined  her.  She  had  dressed  her  hair,  and  this  and 
the  effect  of  the  comfortable  night  she  had  passed 
had  made  another  being  of  her.  With  her  recovery, 
or,  at  all  events,  with  her  improvement,  had  reap- 
peared what  I  might  suppose  her  habitual  nature. 
Her  countenance  expressed  decision  of  character ; 
her  gaze  was  gentle  but  steadfast ;  and  in  the  set  of 
her  lips  there  was  such  a  suggestion  of  self-control 
as  even  my  untutored  sea-faring  eye  could  not  miss. 
I  now  took  notice,  too,  of  her  well-bred  air.  In  the 
hurry  and  agitation  of  the  preceding  day  I  had 
missed  this  quality,  or  she  may  have  failed  to  ex- 
press it.  But  now,  on  my  entering  the  cabin,  and 
on  her  rising  and  extending  her  hand,  I  was  instant- 
ly sensible  of  the  presence  of  the  high-born  lady. 

Almost  in  the  first  words  she  pronounced  she 
asked  me  for  my  name.  I  gave  it  to  her,  and  with 
mingled  dignity  and  sweetness  she  thanked  me  for 
my  sympathy  and  attention.  Our  discourse  was 
chiefly  about  her  health,  the  sort  of  night  she  had 
passed,  and  the  like,  while  Tom  was  putting  the 
breakfast  upon  the  table.   We  then  seated  ourselves. 


IDA  NOBLE.  237 

She  ate  witli  appetite,  but  was  so  reserved  at  first 
that  I  thouglit  to  myself,  "  Now,  Madame,  I  suppose 
you  intend  I  shall  thoroughly  understand  you  are  a 
lady  of  high  degree,  between  whom  and  a  second 
mate  in  the  merchant  service  there  stretches  a  so- 
cial interval  wide  as  the  Atlantic  Ocean  ;  and 
though  I  had  hoped  you  would  tell  me  your  story 
and  help  me  to  a  clear  understanding  of  Don  Chris- 
toval  and  his  expedition,  you  mean  to  disappoint 
me  through  your  new  resolution  to  assert  your 
dignity." 

But  never  was  I  more  mistaken  in  a  lady's 
character.  I  could  see  her  glancing  from  time  to 
time  at  the  negro  boy,  who  lost  no  opportunity  of 
staring  at  her  in  return,  as  though  he  expected  to 
see  her  at  any  moment  snatch  up  a  knife.  I  be- 
lieved I  could  read  her  thoughts,  and  told  the  boy 
to  go  on  deck  and  stop  there  till  I  called  him.  She 
trifled  for  a  bit  with  her  rings ;  then,  with  a  little 
show  of  nervousness,  though  her  accents  did  not 
falter,  she  said  to  me  : 

"  Mr.  Portlack,  from  the  moment  of  my  fainting 
on  that  dreadful  night,  down  to  my  awaking  yes- 
terday, I  seem  to  remember  nothing.  I  say  I  seem, 
and  yet  I  am  haunted  by  a  sort  of  horrid  memory — 
how  shall  I  express  it  ?     It  is  the  shadow  of  a  recol- 


238      THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

lection,  and  that  recollection  again  is,  as  it  were," 
pressing  her  brow  as  though  struggling  to  deeply 
realize  her  thought,  "  no  more  than  the  memory 
of  the  shadow  of  something  horrible.  Am  I  mean- 
ingless to  you  ? " 

"  No." 

She  viewed  me  anxiously  and  searchingly,  and 
said,  "  Have  I  been  mad  ?  " 

"  You  were  insensible  when  you  were  brought 
aboard,  and  you  awoke  from  your  extraordinary 
stupor  for  the  first  time  yesterday." 

"  Mr.  Portlack,  tell  me,  have  I  been  out  of  my 

mind  ? " 

Hating  a  lie  as  I  do,  I  was  yet  resolved  that  she 

should  not  know  the  truth,  and  I  said  "  No  "  with 

so  much  emphasis  that  her  face  instantly  cleared. 

She  smiled,  and   clasped   her  hands.     "  Ah  !  "  she 

exclaimed,  breathing   deep  as   though   she  sighed, 

"in  so  long  and  dreadful  a  slumber  I  must  have 

dreamed  many  fearful  dreams." 

I  wished  to  disengage  her  mind  from  this  sub- 
ject, and  I  was  also  desirous  that  she  should  under- 
stand, without  further  loss  of  time,  how  it  happened 
that  I  made  one  of  the  kidnaping  gang. 

"  With  your  permission,"  said  I,  "  I  will  tell 
you  my  story,  which,  I  believe,  you   will   think   a 


IDA  NOBLE.  239 

strange  one  even  in  the  experiences  of  a  sea-faring 
person." 

She  watched  me  with  attention,  and  I  proceeded 
to  relate  my  adventures,  beginning  with  the  Ocean 
Eanger,  and  then  going  on  to  the  American  ship, 
to  my  distressful  and  perilous  situation  in  the  open 
boat,  and  then  to  this  schooner  La  Casandra  fall- 
ing in  with  me ;  thus  I  steadily  worked  my  way 
right  through  my  own  yarn,  omitting  nothing  save 
the  incident  of  the  death  of  Don  Christoval.  That 
she  was  a  young  lady  of  much  strength  of  character 
I  might  now  be  sure  of  by  her  manner  of  listening 
to  me.  I  was  graphic  enough,  particularly  in  my 
description  of  our  arrival  off  the  coast  of  Cumber- 
land ;  nevertheless,  she  attended  to  me  with  com- 
posure, with  iirm  lips  and  steady  regard.  No  ex- 
clamation escaped  her.  Once  or  twice  she  sighed, 
and  once  she  colored,  as  though  from  some  sudden 
passion  of  resentment  swiftly  controlled. 

"  And  now,  Miss  Noble,"  said  I,  "  I  hope  I  have 
made  you  understand  how  it  ha]3pcns  that  I  am 
here  ? " 

"  Perfectly,"  she  answered,  "  and  I  am  glad  that 
you  are  here,  Mr.  Portlack.  But  you  have  not  told 
me  what  has  become  of  Don  Christoval  and  hie 
friend." 


2J:0      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE, 

There  was  nothing  for  it — I  must  tell  another 
falsehood ;  but  Heaven  would  forgive  me,  for  I 
meant  well.  So  I  answered  that  I  had  informed 
them,  on  learning  that  she  was  not  Madame  del 
Padron,  that  it  was  my  intention  to  carry  her  home, 
and  that  on  my  arrival  my  first  business  would  be 
to  inform  against  them  for  having  abducted  her ; 
whereupon  they  had  prayed  to  be  transshipped  to  a 
passing  vessel ;  to  which,  after  reflection,  I  con- 
sented, and  the  two  scoundrels  were  transferred  to  a 
little  Portuguese  brig  on  the  preceding  day. 

She  sank  into  thought.  After  a  while  she  lifted 
up  her  head  and  gazed  slowly  and  with  curiosity 
round  her  at  the  pictures,  tlie  mirrors,  and  the  other 
furniture  in  the  cabin.  Her  eyes  next  went  to  her 
bracelets,  and  they  then  met  mine.  I  waited  for 
her  to  speak. 

"  How  long  is  it  now,  Mr.  Portlack,  since  I  was 
stolen  from  my  father's  house  ? " 

"  This  is  the  sixth  day  of  your  absence." 

"  What  will  my  father  and  mother  think  ?  They 
can  not  have  been  able  to  do  anything.  That  will 
be  the  hardest  part  to  my  father.  They  will  have 
no  idea  into  what  part  of  the  world  I  was  to  be 
carried.  Will  they  even  know  that  this  vessel  was 
lying  off  the  coast  to  receive  me  % " 


IDA   NOBLE.  241 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  I,  "  they  will  know  that.  Some 
one  is  certain  to  have  followed  the  sailors  and  the 
Spaniards  as  they  marched  with  you  to  the  boat." 

"  Would  there  be  any  papers,  any  letters,  do  you 
think,"  said  she,  "  on  the  body  of  the  man  who  you 
said  was  killed,  from  which  my  father  might  learn 
that  this  vessel's  destination  was  Cuba  ? " 

"  I  do  not  know.     Most  probably  not." 

"  What  a  wanton  act  of  wickedness  !  What 
unnecessary,  barbarous  cruelty  ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Had  I  been  driven  mad,  it  would  not  have  been 
strange.  We  had  just  arrived  from  a  ball,  when 
my  father  cried  out  that  there  was  a  crowd  of  men 
outside.  He  told  me  to  run  upstairs.  I  can  not 
imagine  that  he  suspected  the  errand  on  which  they 
had  come.  I  believed  that  the  men  had  arrived 
to  plunder  the  house :  it  is  situated  on  a  lonely  part 
of  the  coast.  I  went  into  a  room,  and  almost  at 
that  moment  I  heard  the  report  of  a  gun.  The 
house  is  an  old-fashioned  building,  the  walls  very 
thick.  I  was  so  far  away  from  the  hall  that  no 
sound  reached  me,  but  in  a  short  time  I  heard  foot- 
steps, and  the  noise  of  doors  violently  opened,  and 
the  voices  of  men  exclaiming  in  Spanish.  The 
door  of  my  room  was  tried  ;  I  had  turned  the  key, 

but  the  lock  was  an  old  one.     The  two  Spaniards 
18 


242     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

put  their  shoulders  against  the  door,  and  it  flew 
open  ;  then  I  recollect  a  few  moments  of  struggling 
and  shrieking,  and  nothing  more." 

"  Did  you  never  fear  that  Don  Christoval  would 
one  day  or  night  attempt  to  carry  you  off  ? " 

"  Never,"  she  responded,  with  a  note  of  ve- 
hemence disturbing  her  calm  tones,  and  I  saw  a 
flash  in  her  brown  eyes. 

"  He  evidently  kept  himself  acquainted  with 
your  movements." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered ;  "  in  another  week  we 
were  going  abroad.  We  should  have  been  starting 
about  now,  or  to-morrow." 

"  He  told  me  that.  AYho  was  the  spy  he  em- 
ployed, I  wonder  ? " 

She  reflected,  and  answered :  "  No  member  of 
our  household,  I  am  sure.  Wliat  sort  of  person  is 
Don  Lazarillo  de  Tonnes  ? " 

I  described  him,  and  perceived  by  her  way  of 
listening  that  she  had  never  seen  him,  and  indeed 
had  never  heard  of  him. 

"  You  may  take  it.  Miss  Noble,"  said  I,  "  that 
whoever  Don  Lazarillo  may  have  been,  he  found 
the  money  for  this  adventure." 

"  That  must  have  been  so,"  she  answered ;  "  Don 
Christoval  is  poor." 


IDA  NOBLE.  243 

"  Had  he  any  property  in  Cuba  ? " 

"  I  believe  not,"  sbe  answered. 

"  Forgive  me  for  being  inquisitive.  "Was — I 
mean,  is  the  man  in  any  way  related  to  you  ? " 

"  He  is.  He  is  a  distant  connection  on  my  father's 
side.  His  father  was  a  Spaniard,  and,  I  have  al- 
ways understood,  of  noble  blood.  Don  Christoval 
was  in  England,  and  called  upon  us  when  we  were 
in  London.  "We  afterward  met  him  in  Paris.  My 
father  disliked  him,  and  it  came  to  his  forbidding 
him  from  holding  any  communication  with  us.  He 
then  challenged  my  brother  to  a  duel,  and,  unknown 
to  my  father  and  mother,  my  brother  attended  with 
a  friend,  a  lieutenant  in  the  Eoyal  Navy ;  but  Don 
Christoval  did  not  appear.  That  is  entirely  all  that 
I  can  tell  you  about  the  man,  Mr.  Portlack." 

"  I  felt,"  said  I,  "  that  he  was  lying  when  he 
spoke  of  you  as  his  wife.  But  how  was  it  possible 
to  make  sure  of  the  truth,  one  way  or  the  other  ? 
He  put  his  story  so  persuasively,  his  voice  was  so 
sweet,  he  was  so  very  handsome,  that  any  one  be- 
lieving in  his  tale  could  not  but  have  pitied  him, 
even  to  the  degree  of  feeling  willing  to  help  him  to 
recover  what  he  called  his  own." 

She  slightly  colored,  and  said,  "  He  only  wanted 
my  money." 


244      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

Here  I  might  have  complimented  her,  but  I  was 
an  off-hand  sailor,  without  any  talent  for  drawing- 
room  civihties. 

I  need  not  dwell  at  length  upon  what  passed  be- 
tween Miss  Noble  and  me  on  this  our  first  opportu- 
nity for  enjoying  a  long  chat.  It  was  natural  that 
we  should  again  and  again  travel  over  the  same 
ground.  Though  she  did  not  repeat  her  question 
whether  she  had  been  out  of  her  mind,  I  noticed,  in 
her  references  to  her  state  of  catalepsy  or  stupor,  a 
haunting  uneasiness,  as  though  the  shadow  of  some 
black  dream  lay  upon  her  in  tormenting  shapeless- 
ness  and  illusiveness.  I  can  fancy  that  it  resembled 
one  of  those  ideas  which  visit  most  of  us  in  our  life- 
time— the  idea  that  we  have  felt,  suffered,  or  done 
something  in  another  sphere  of  being. 

She  was  clearly  a  lady  of  strong  constitution. 
She  showed  no  traces  of  the  condition  she  had  been 
in  for  nearly  a  week.  One  would  have  thought  to 
see  her  haggard,  bloodless,  famine-pinched,  with 
pale  lips  and  unlighted  eyes  ;  but,  making  due  allow- 
ance for  the  costume  of  crimson  dressing-gown  and 
for  the  absence  of  divers  finishing  details  of  toilet, 
I  could  not  conceive  that  she,  at  any  time  in  her 
life,  could  have  looked  much  better  than  she  now 
did.     May  be  her  profound  sleep  had  cleansed  her 


IDA  NOBLE.  245 

countenance  of  the  dreadful  marks  which  the  talons 
of  the  fiend  Madness  commonly  grave  upon  the 
human  face.  Be  this  as  it  may,  her  health  seemed 
excellent  as  I  sat  conversing  with  her  at  that  break- 
fast-table ;  her  calm  voice  had  the  true  music  of 
good  breeding ;  her  remarks  exhibited  no  common 
order  of  perception  and  good  sense,  and  to  my  mind 
— though  it  is  said  that  sailors  are  easy  to  please — 
she  needed  no  other  face  than  her  own,  with  its  soft 
brown  eyes,  and  purely  feminine  lineaments,  and 
dark  red  hair,  massive,  abundant,  and  glowing,  to 
be  as  fascinating  a  lady  as  a  man  could  hope  to  meet 
with  in  English  or  any  other  society. 

I  had,  in  the  course  of  our  conversation,  told  her 
very  honestly  what  the  sailors  intended  to  do.  I 
added  that  they  were  right  in  endeavoring  to  escape 
from  the  consequences  of  a  wrong  into  the  perpe- 
tration of  which  they  had  been  basely  betrayed  by 
the  lies  of  Don  Christoval  and  his  friend.  I  had 
then  explained  that  I  should  be  left  alone  in  the 
schooner  with  the  negro  boy,  but  that  I  had  not  the 
least  doubt  of  promptly  obtaining  all  the  help  I 
needed  to  carry  the  vessel  safely  and  comfortably 
home.  This  made  her  ask  how  long  it  might  take 
us  to  reach  home. 

"  Eight  or  ten  days,"  I  answered. 


246     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  What,  meanwhile,  am  I  to  do  for  clothes  ? " 
said  she  ;  and,  with  something  of  unconsciousness  in 
her  manner,  as  though  her  lingers  were  governed 
by  a  thought  in  her  head,  she  opened  her  dressing- 
gown  and  revealed  herseK  in  ball  attire. 

Though  she  had  been  thus  appareled  for  a  week 
there  seemed  to  be  nothing  soiled,  nothing  faded,  in 
this  aspect  of  her.  It  was  the  suddenness  of  the 
revelation,  I  dare  say,  that  gave  to  her  form  the  brill- 
iance I  found  in  it.  Then,  there  was  also  the  con- 
trast of  the  rich  crimson  dressing-gown  to  heighten 
this  instant  splendor  of  attire  and  the  incomparable 
whiteness  of  her  neck  and  shoulders,  though  these 
were  still  defaced  by  several  long,  ugly  black 
scratches.  She  buttoned  the  dressing-gown  to  her 
throat  again,  and  said,  -with  a  smile  full  of  self-pos- 
session, but  sweetened  by  a  little  expression  of  sad- 
ness : 

"  This  is  not  the  kind  of  dress  that  one  would 
wear  at  sea,  Mr.  Portlack." 

"  It  is  very  beautiful,"  said  I  in  my  simple  way. 

"  The  skirt  is  badly  torn,"  she  exclaimed.  "  Those 
wretches  must  have  treated  me  very  roughly,  even 
after  I  had  fainted." 

"  You  certainly  will  require  warmer  clothing 
than  that  ball-dress,"  said  I.    "  Stay !  an  idea  occurs 


IDA  NOBLE.  247 

to  me.  "Was  it  Don  Cliristoval — yes,  I  believe  it 
was  Don  Christoval,  who  informed  me — who  im- 
plied rather — that  he  had  made  some  provisions  for 
you  in  the  matter  of  dress."  I  shouted  through  the 
skylight  for  Tom.  The  boy  arrived.  "  Go  and 
ask  Mr.  Butler,"  said  I,  "  if  he  can  tell  me  in  what 
part  of  the  vessel  Captain  Dopping  stowed  the 
wearing  apparel  which  was  taken  on  board  by  Don 
Cliristoval  for  the  use  of  this  lady." 

The  boy  went  on  deck.  Presently  Butler's  head 
showed  in  the  skylight.  There  was  a  shawl  round 
his  throat,  that  covered  his  mouth  to  the  height  of 
his  nostrils,  and  he  wore  a  sou'-wester,  the  forward 
thatch  of  which  he  had  turned  down,  while  the  ear- 
lappets  hid  his  cheeks.  It  was  clear  he  did  not  in- 
tend that  Miss  Noble  should  see  more  of  his  face 
than  might  serve  him  to  breathe  with. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  he  said  in  a  muffled  hurricane 
note,  talking  through  his  shawl.  "  Here's  this  here 
Tom  come  with  some  message  from  you,  and  I  don't 
know  what  he  means."  I  explained.  "  Ho  !  yes," 
said  he  ;  "  I  understand  now.  There's  a  chest  of 
garments,  I  believe,  stowed  away  down  in  the  laza- 
reet." 

In  less  than  twenty  minutes  the  negro  lad  and 
I  had  explored  the  lazarette,  discovered  the  chest, 


248     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

lugged  it  into  Miss  Noble's  cabin,  and  there  left  it 
open.  All  that  it  contained  I  could  not  tell  you, 
but  when  I  next  saw  Miss  Noble  she  was  wearing 
a  green  dress  of  some  light,  good  material,  the  waist 
of  which  was  secured  by  a  band,  and  on  her  head 
was  a  plain  straw  hat  of  a  sort  to  prove  very  serv- 
iceable to  a  lady  at  sea. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 

CAPTAIN   NOBLE. 

Kow,  until  we  had  closed  the  Spanish  coast,  that 
is  to  say,  during  the  following  four  days,  nothing 
happened  of  such  moment  as  deserves  your  atten- 
tion. The  men  kept  themselves  as  much  as  possible 
out  of  sight  of  Miss  I^oble,  and  every  fellow  whose 
turn  it  was  to  stand  at  the  helm  invariably  ar- 
rived so  concealed  about  the  face  that  I  would  often 
find  it  difficult  to  give  him  his  right  name.  The 
sailors'  dread  of  being  observed  by  Miss  l^oble  grew 
speedily  into  a  real  inconvenience ;  it  came,  indeed, 
very  near  to  hindering  me,  in  the  daytime  when  the 
lady  was  on  deck,  from  navigating  the  schooner ; 
and  to  end  it  I  took  occasion,  when  we  sat  below  at 
some  meal  or  other,  to  tell  her  of  what  the  men 
were  afraid ;  with  the  result,  that  until  the  fellows 
left  us  her  visits  to  the  deck  were  very  few,  and 
chiefly  in  the  dusk. 

It  was  four  days  from  the  date  of  the  transship- 


250     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

ment  of  Don  Lazarillo  and  the  cook  that  bj  my 
computation  we  arrived  within  ten  leagues  of  the 
coast  of  Spain,  the  port  of  Cadiz  bearing  about 
east-by-south.  It  was  a  sunny  morning,  with  a 
pleasant  breeze.  We  hove  the  schooner  to,  for  I 
did  not  think  proper  to  approach  the  land  nearer 
than  thirty  miles.  Here  and  there  was  a  gleam 
of  white  canvas  upon  the  horizon;  and  I  thought 
to  myself,  reflecting  in  the  interests  of  the  men, 
their  departure  must  not  be  witnessed,  nor  must 
anything  be  near  enough  to  fall  in  with  them  and 
to  have  the  schooner  in  sight  also ;  therefore  I  hove 
La  Casandra  to  at  a  distance  of  about  ten  leagues 
from  the  port  of  Cadiz,  nothing  being  visible  but 
one  or  two  sail,  hull  down. 

Everything  was  in  readiness.  You  will  believe 
that  the  boat,  owing  to  the  men's  anxiety  to  get 
away,  had  been  long  before  this  morning  pro- 
visioned and  equipped.  She  was  launched  through 
the  gangway  just  as  she  had  been  launched  off  the 
Cumberland  coast  on  that  silent,  tragic  night ;  then, 
while  she  lay  alongside,  the  seamen,  in  obedience  to 
my  command,  went  to  work  to  reduce  sail  upon 
the  schooner,  so  that  there  would  be  little  left  for 
me  and  Tom  to  do  should  it  come  on  to  blow  before 
we   could   procure    help.     While   this   was    doing 


CAPTAIN  NOBLE.  251 

Miss  Noble  remained  in  the  cabin.  Everything 
being  ready,  Butler  stepped  up  to  me  with  his  hand 
extended.     I  grasped  and  shook  it. 

"  Good-by,  sir,  and  we  all  hope,  I'm  sure,  that 
you'll  have  a  safe  and  happy  run  home." 

"  Good-by,  Butler  —  good-by,  my  lads.  Tou 
have  behaved  very  well.  I  thank  you  for  the  will- 
ingness with  which  you  have  done  your  work 
under  me.  See  that  the  yarn  you  have  in  your 
heads  you  all  stick  to,  so  that  you'll  be  able  to  speak 
as  with  one  tongue  when  you  get  ashore." 

"  Trust  us,  sir,"  said  Scott. 

"  I  hope  the  lady  thoroughly  imderstands,"  said 
Trapp,  "  how  it  happened  that  we  five  Englishmen 
was  led  into  a  job  which  ne'er  a  man  of  us  would 
have  touched,  no,  not  for  five  times  the  money 
received,  had  the  true  meaning  of  it  been  ex- 
plained ? " 

"  She  does.     And  now  you  had  better  be  off." 

They  entered  the  boat,  stepped  the  mast,  and  I 
gave  Butler  the  course  to  steer  by  the  little  box 
compass  that  had  been  placed  in  the  stern-sheets. 
They  then  hoisted  the  sail,  and  as  the  boat  slid 
away  from  the  shadow  of  the  schooner's  side,  they 
all  stood  up  and  loudly  cheered  me.  I  halloed  a 
cheer  back  to  them  with  a  flourish  of  my  cap,  then 


252     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

stepped  aft,  and,  putting  the  helm  over,  brought  the 
schooner  with  her  head  to  west-north-west. 

"  Come  and  lay  hold  of  the  tiller,  Tom."  The 
negro  boy  arrived.  "  Miss  Noble,"  said  I,  putting 
my  head  into  the  companion-way,  "  the  men  have 
left  the  schooner." 

She  at  once  came  on  deck,  and  stood  looking 
in  silence  at  tlie  cutter  as  she  swept  swiftly  east- 
ward under  the  white  square  of  her  lug. 

"  We  are  lonely  indeed,  now,"  she  presently  ex- 
claimed, bringing  her  eyes  from  the  boat  to  cast 
them  round  the  horizon. 

"  Yes,"  said  I,  "  but  we  are  going  home,"  and  I 
pointed  to  the  compass. 

But  she  was  right,  for  all  that.  Lonely  the 
schooner  looked  with  her  deserted  decks  and  small 
canvas,  and  lonely  I  felt,  not  so  much  at  the  be- 
ginning as  later  on,  when  the  rolling  hours  brought 
the  night  along,  without  heaving  anything  into 
view  that  we  could  turn  to  account.  Miss  ISToble 
earnestly  wished  to  help  ;  she  assured  me  she  could 
steer ;  she  was  sprung,  she  said,  from  a  naval  stock, 
and  she  told  me  that  salt  water  had  run  in  the  veins 
of  several  generations  on  her  father's  side,  and  that 
she  was  to  be  trusted  at  the  helm.  And,  indeed,  I 
found  that  she  steered  perfectly  well ;  she  held  the 


CAPTAIN  NOBLE.  253 

yaclit's  head  steady  to  her  course  ;  and  as  half  the 
art  of  steering  lies  in  that,  the  most  experienced 
man  conld  not  have  done  more. 

Her  taking  the  helm  enabled  the  boy  to  cook 
for  ns,  and  it  gave  me  an  opportunity  to  obtain 
sights,  to  attend  to  the  sails,  and  the  like.  Yet, 
when  day  broke  next  morning,  I  well  remember 
heartily  praying  that  I  should  not  have  to  pass,  sin- 
gle-handed, such  another  night  as  we  had  managed 
to  scrape  through.  I  was  on  deck  all  night  long. 
I  obliged  Miss  Noble  to  go  below  and  take  some 
rest,  and  Tom  slept  at  my  feet  while  I  grasped  the 
tiller,  ready  to  relieve  me  when  I  was  exhausted 
with  standing.  Happily  it  was  a  fine  night  ;  a 
warm  wind  blew  out  of  the  west,  and  the  stars 
shone  purely  with  a  few  shadows  of  clouds  sailing 
down  the  eastern  slope. 

It  was  shortly  after  eight  o'clock,  while  I  stood 
near  the  tiller  drinking  a  cup  of  chocolate  which 
Tom  had  brought  me  out  of  the  galley,  where 
he  had  lighted  a  fire,  that,  happening  to  look 
astern,  I  spied  a  sail.  Nothing  else  was  in  sight, 
and  I  had  but  to  look  once  to  know  that  she  was 
overtaking  us.  This,  indeed,  must  have  been  prac- 
ticable to  the  clumsiest  wagon  afloat ;  for  the  can- 
vas the  schooner  was  under,  merry  as  was  the  breeze 


254      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

that  whipped  the  sea  into  snow  and  fire  under  the 
risen  sun,  was  scarcely  sufficient  to  drive  her  along 
at  four  miles  in  the  hour. 

When  I  had  drunk  my  chocolate  I  bade  Tom 
prepare  some  breakfast  for  Miss  I^oble,  who  was,  or 
had  been,  resting  on  a  sofa  in  the  cabin.  When 
the  girl  had  finished  her  meal  she  came  on  deck. 
And  now  the  overtaking  vessel  had  risen  to  her 
hull,  and  in  the  telescope  which  I  pointed  at  her 
was  proving  herself  a  large  ship,  with  a  black  and 
white  band  and  a  red  gleam  of  copper  under  the 
checkered  side  as  she  leaned  from  the  breeze. 

"  I  wish  she  may  not  be  an  English  frigate," 
said  I  to  Miss  Noble. 

"  Why  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Because,"  said  I,  "  she  is  sure  to  prove  too  in- 
quisitive to  be  convenient.  She'll  be  sending  a 
lieutenant  on  board ;  he  will  see  you ;  he  will  ask 
questions ;  he  will  demand  the  schooner's  papers ;  he 
will  not  be  satisfied,  and  will  return  to  his  ship  for 
instructions ;  and  we  want  to  get  home  comfortably, 
Miss  Noble." 

"  I  understand  you,"  she  answered.  "  But  an 
English  frigate !  What  security,  what  safety  is 
there  in  the  very  sound  of  the  words  !  " 

I  waited  a  little  while,  and   then,  again  leveling 


CAPTAIN   NOBLE.  255 

the  glass  at  the  vessel,  I  clearly  perceived  that  she 
was  not  an  English  frigate,  but  a  large  merchant- 
man, resembling  a  man-of-war  in  many  details,  sav- 
ing the  row  of  grinning  artillery,  the  white  line  of 
hammocks,  the  heavy  tops,  and  a  peculiar  cut  of 
canvas  that  could  never  be  mistaken  by  a  nautical 
eye  in  those  days  of  tacks  and  sheets.  Apparently 
she  was  a  troop  ship  out  of  the  Mediterranean ;  there 
were  many  red  spots  of  uniform  upon  her  forecastle 
past  the  yawn  and  curves  of  the  white  and  swelling 
jibs.  And,  indeed,  she  had  need  to  be  a  hired  trans- 
port, for  nothing  of  her  rig  would  have  any  business 
in  the  Mediterranean,  and  nothing  homeward  bound 
from  the  Indies  or  the  Australias  was  likely  to  be  met 
with  80  far  to  the  eastward  as  was  the  longitude  of 
the  waters  we  were  in.  I  hoisted  the  Spanish  en- 
sign, and  left  it  flying  at  half-mast. 

"  Now,  Miss  Noble,"  said  I,  "  what  story  shall  I 
tell  those  people,  should  they  heave  to  and  send  a 
boat,  as  I  hope  and  believe  they  will  ? " 

She  gazed  at  me  inquiringly. 

"  If  I  give  them  the  whole  truth,"  said  I,  "  it 
will  run  like  wildfire  throughout  the  ship.  The 
vessel  will  probably  arrive  before  we  do  ;  there  are 
crowds  of  people  on  board  to  talk  ;  the  news  of  the 
outrage   done  you   and   yours  will  be   circulated, 


256  THE  TRAGEDY   OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

printed  ;  it  will  become  everybody's  gossip.  Now, 
would  Captain  Noble  wish  this  ?  Would  my  lady, 
your  mother,  desire  this  ?  " 

"  No,  they  would  not,"  she  answered,  after  a 
pause.  "  You  are  kind  and  wise  to  ask  the  question. 
The  thought  did  not  occur  to  me  when  I  wished 
that  yonder  vessel  might  prove  an  English  frigate." 

"  Then  I  must  invent  a  story,"  said  I. 

"  But  did  not  you  say,"  she  asked,  "  that  when 
we  arrived  at  an  English  port  you  would  be  obhged 
to  hand  the  schooner  over  to  the  authorities  of  the 
port,  to  whom  you  would  relate  the  truth,  as  it 
would  be  impossible  and  most  unwise  to  attempt 
to  deceive  them?  Those  were  your  words,  Mr. 
Portlack." 

"  Yes,  I  remember  ;  those  were  my  words.  "Well, 
Miss  Noble  ? " 

"  TTell,"  said  she,  "  don't  you  see  that,  since  you 
must  tell  the  truth  when  you  arrive  in  England,  this 
wretched  story  will  have  to  be  made  public  in  any 
case  ? " 

"  No,"  said  I,  "  there  is  a  difference.  Yonder  is 
a  ship  full  of  soldiers  and  sailors,  and  others — gossips 
all,  no  doubt.  To  give  them  the  truth — and  to  give 
it  to  the  captain  or  the  mate  is  to  give  it  to  them  all 
— is  tantamount  to  publishing  your  story  throughout 


CAPTAIN   NOBLE.  257 

England,  whether  you  will  or  not ;  but  to  communi- 
cate with  the  receiver  of  wrecks  is  another  matter. 
There  is  official  reserve  to  depend  upon.  Your  fa- 
ther, too,  will  not  be  wanting  in  influence.  To  me, 
Miss  Noble,  it  is  all  one.  I  desire  to  be  influenced 
by  your  wishes." 

"  My  wish  certainly  is,"  said  she  in  her  calm, 
emphatic  way  of  speaking,  "  that  as  little  as  possible 
of  what  has  befallen  me  should  be  known." 

"  Then,"  said  I,  "  I  will  ask  you  to  step  into  the 
cabin  and  keep  in  3'our  own  berth  out  of  sight  until 
the  visit  I  hope  to  receive  is  ended." 

She  went  below  forthwith. 

Half  an  hour  later  the  large  full-rigged  hired 
transport  Talavera  had  ranged  alongside  La  Casan- 
dra,  easily  within  ear-shot.  She  was  crowded  with 
troops;  numbers  of  military  officers  in  undress  uni- 
form surveyed  us  from  tlie  poop.  A  tall  man  in 
a  frock  coat  aiid  a  cap  with  a  naval  peak  stood 
upon  a  hen-coop^  and  hailed  to  know  what  was  the 
matter. 

"  My  men  have  deserted,"  I  cried  back  ;  "  there 

are   but   this   negro  boy  and   myself  to  carry  the 

schooner  to  an  English  port.     Can  you  lend  me  a 

couple  of  hands  ? " 

"  I  will  send  a  boat,"  he  exclaimed,  very  easily 
17 


258  THE  TRAGEDY   OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

perceiving  that  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  board 
him. 

A  boat  in  charge  of  a  mottled-faced,  jolly-look- 
ing, round-shouldered  man,  about  thirty  years  of 
age,  swept  alongside,  and  the  jolly-looking  man  came 
on  board. 

"  Are  you  the  master  ? "  said  he. 

"  Yes,"  said  I. 

"  Short  of  men,  hey  ?  "  said  he.  "  So  I  should 
suppose,  if  Ae's  your  crew,  "  bursting  into  a  laugh  as 
he  indicated  the  negro  boy  with  a  motion  of  his 
chin.  "  How  come  you  to  be  at  sea  with  no  more 
crew  than  one  little  nigger  ?  " 

"  My  crew,"  said  I,  "  were  composed  of  five 
English  sailors.  They  were  shipped  at  Cadiz.  Yes- 
terday they  took  the  boat,  and  sailed  away  to  the 
coast  of  Spain  in  her,  saying  iliey  weren't  going  to 
England.     Can  you  lend  me  a  couple  of  hands  ? " 

"  What's  the  name  of  this  craft  ? "  said  he,  look- 
ing up  at  the  Spanish  ensign. 

"  La  Casandra." 

"  From  Cadiz,  d'ye  say  ? — to  where  ? " 

"To  Penzance,"  said  I,  naming  the  first  port 
that  entered  my  head. 

"  Who's  the  owner  ?  " 

"  Don  Lazarillo  de  Tonnes." 


CAPTAIN  NOBLE.  259 

He  asked  several  further  questions  of  a  like  sort, 
and  seemed  perfectly  satisfied  with  my  answers.  I 
invited  him  to  step  below  and  drink  a  glass  of  wine, 
but  he  declined,  saying  that  his  ship  was  in  too 
great  a  hurry  to  get  home  to  allow  him  to  stop  and 
take  a  friendly  glass  on  the  road. 

He  had  not  long  returned  to  the  Talavera  when 
the  boat,  in  charge  of  a  midshipman,  came  alongside 
the  schooner  again,  and  a  couple  of  young  sailors, 
each  wdth  a  sailor's  bag  upon  his  shoulder,  climbed 
over  the  side.  The  midshipman,  looking  up,  called 
out  to  me :  "  They're  a  couple  of  Dutchmen,  but 
the  captain  guesses  they'll  serve  your  turn."  I  told 
him  to  give  my  hearty  thanks  to  the  captain  for  his 
kindness.  He  then  went  back  to  his  ship,  which 
immediately  swung  her  yards,  and  in  a  little  while  a 
wide  space  of  water  separated  the  two  vessels. 

"  Dutchman "  is  a  generic  word  employed  by 
sailors  to  designate  Germans,  Swedes,  Danes,  and 
others  of  the  northern  nationalities.  These  two 
Dutchmen  proved  to  be,  the  one  a  yoimg  Swede, 
who  spoke  English  very  imperfectly,  and  the  other 
a  young  Dane,  whose  knowledge  of  English  was 
almost  wholly  restricted  to  the  names  of  ropes 
and  sails  ;  both  of  them  smart,  respectful  young 
fellows,  without  curiosity,  accepting   their  sudden 


260     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

change  of  life  with  the  proverbial  indifference  of 
the  sailor. 

I  had  intended,  for  the  convenience  of  Miss  No- 
ble, to  carry  the  schooner  to  Whitehaven  ;  but  before 
we  gained  the  parallel  of  Land's  End  it  came  on  to 
blow  heavily  from  the  north  and  west — so  heavily, 
and  with  such  an  ugly,  menacing  look  of  continu- 
ance in  the  wide,  dark,  greenish  scowl  of  the  sky, 
that  I  thought  proper  to  shift  my  helm  for  the 
English  Channel.  There  we  encountered  terrible 
weather.  I  hoped  to  make  some  near  port,  but, 
owing  to  the  thickness  and  to  the  gale  that  had 
veered  due  west,  I  could  do  nothing  but  keep  the 
schooner  running  until  we  were  off  the  South  Fore- 
land. The  weather  then  moderating,  I  steered  for 
Kamsgate  harbor,  and  the  schooner  was  safely 
moored  alongside  the  wall  of  the  East  Pier  in  six 
days  to  the  hour  from  the  date  of  our  receiving  the 
two  seamen  from  the  Talavera. 

You  will  suppose  that  Miss  E'oble  long  before 
this  had  written  a  letter — nay,  had  written  four 
letters — to  her  father  ready  for  instantly  posting  on 
her  arrival  anywhere.  It  seems  that  he  had  four 
addresses — his  house  in  Cumberland,  his  house  in 
town,  and  two  clubs,  one  in  London  and  one  in  the 
north — and   she   was  determined   that  her  letters 


CAPTAIN   NOBLE.  261 

slioTild  not  be  delayed  through  his  absence  from 
one  address  or  another.  These  letters  were  im- 
mediately posted,  but  communication  in  those  days 
was  not  as  it  is  now,  and  if  it  happened  that  her 
father  was  in  Cumberland,  then,  let  him  post  it 
and  coach  it  as  he  would,  it  must  occupy  him  hard 
upon  four  days — and  perhaps  five  days — to  reach 
Hamsgate. 

Certain  Custom  House  ofificers  came  on  board 
and  rummaged  the  schooner  for  contraband  cargo. 
They  stared  hard  at  the  cabin  furniture,  and  moved 
and  groped  here  and  there  with  eyes  full  of  sus- 
picion. I  told  Miss  Noble  that  my  immediate  busi- 
ness now  lay  at  the  Custom  House,  and  I  begged  to 
know  what  her  plans  were,  that  I  might  help  her  to 
further  them. 

"  I  will  go  to  a  hotel,"  she  answered,  "  and  there 
wait  for  my  father.  As  you  are  going  into  the 
town,  will  you  engage  a  sitting-room  and  bedroom 
for  me  at  the  best  hotel  in  the  place  ?  And  I  will 
also  ask  you  to  order  a  trunk-maker  to  send  a  port- 
manteau down  to  this  schooner,  otherwise  I  shall  not 
know  how  to  pack  my  ball-dress  and  jewelry.  This 
dress,"  said  she,  looking  down  at  the  robe  in  which 
she  was  attired,  and  which  had  formed  a  portion  of 
the  apparel  that  Don  Christoval  had  laid  in  for  her, 


262  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

"  I  shall  continue  to  wear  until  my  fatlier  brings 
me  the  dresses  I  have  written  for." 

"  I  will  do  what  you  ask,"  said  I,  and,  leaving 
her  on  board,  I  climbed  the  ladder  affixed  to  the  pier 
wall,  and  bent  my  steps  in  the  direction  of  the  Cus- 
tom House. 

The  receiver  was  a  little,  eager-looking  man, 
afflicted  with  several  nervous  disorders.  He  could 
neither  sit  nor  stand  for  any  length  of  time  4  he 
blinked  hideously,  and  he  also  stuttered.  My  tale 
took  the  form  of  a  deposition,  and  I  omitted  no 
single  point  of  it,  save  the  assassination  of  Don 
Christoval. 

"  This,"  said  the  little  receiver,  stammering  and 
blinking — "  this,"  he  exclaimed,  when  I  had  come 
to  an  end,  "  is  a  very  extraordinary  story,  sir." 

"  It  is,"  said  I. 

"  Captain  Noble  is  a  well-known  gentleman," 
said  he.  "  I  was  for  a  short  time  on  duty  at  "Wliite- 
haven,  and  heard  much  of  him." 

"  His  daughter  has  written  to  him,"  said  I,  "  and 
he  will  doubtless  be  here  as  fast  as  he  can  travel. 
And  what  about  the  schooner  ?  " 

"  I  must  wait  for  instructions,"  he  answered ; 
"  your  deposition  will  be  sent  to  head-quarters." 

"  Have  I  not  a  lien  upon  her  ?  " 


CAPTAIN  NOBLE.  263 

"For  what?  "said  he. 

"  For  services  rendered." 

"  Seems  the  other  way  about,  don't  it  ? "  said 
he,  with  his  stammer.  "  The  services  appear  to 
have  been  rendered  by  her  to  you." 

"  There  are  two  men  and  a  boy  who  want  their 
wages,"  said  I. 

"  Who  is  the  owner,  d'ye  say  ? "  exclaimed  the 
little  man. 

"  Don  Lazarillo  de  Tormes." 

"  Well,  he  will  be  communicated  with." 

"  No,  he  won't,  though,"  said  I.  "  We  shall 
never  hear  anything  more  of  Don  Lazarillo  de 
Tormes.  What !  do  you  think  that  the  man  would 
dare  come  forward  and  claim  his  schooner  on  top 
of  an  outrage  which  would  earn  him  transporta- 
tion for  life,  could  they  get  hold  of  him  in  this 
country  ? " 

"If  he  doesn't  come  forward,"  said  the  little 
receiver,  blinking  at  me,  "  and  if  the  schooner  re- 
remains  unclaimed  for  any  length  of  time,  why, 
then  she  will  be  sold  ;  and  there'll  be  your  opportu- 
nity for  asserting  your  rights." 

I  walked  into  the  town,  leaving  the  little  re- 
ceiver putting  on  his  hat  to  view  the  wonderful 
schooner,  with  a  hope,  too,  of  catching  a  sight  of 


264     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

Miss  Noble.  I  obtained  the  required  accommoda- 
tion for  the  ladj  at  the  Albion  Hotel ;  then,  observ- 
ing a  shop  in  which  some  trunks  were  displayed, 
I  told  the  shopkeeper  to  send  one  of  them,  or  a 
portmanteau  if  he  had  such  a  thing,  down  to  the 
schooner  La  Casandra.  Entering  the  street  again, 
I  walked  a  little  way,  and,  finding  myself  in  the 
market-place,  stopped  to  consider.  I  did  not  possess 
a  farthing  of  money  in  my  pocket,  and  it  would 
take  me  some  time  to  draw  my  little  savings  out 
of  that  London  bank  in  which  they  were  deposited  ; 
but  money  for  immediate  needs  I  must  have,  and, 
addressing  a  porter  in  a  white  apron,  who  stood 
in  the  market-place  smoking  a  pipe,  I  asked  him 
to  direct  me  to  a  pawnbroker.  He  pointed  with 
his  pipe  up  the  street,  and  proceeding  in  that  direc- 
tion I  presently  observed  the  familiar  sign  of  the 
three  balls.  I  entered,  and  put  down  the  gold  chain 
and  watch  that  had  belonged  to  Don  Christoval, 
and  for  it  I  received  twenty  sovereigns  and  a 
ticket. 

I  then  returned  to  the  schooner,  where  I  found 
Miss  Noble  in  the  cabin  reasoning  with  the  trunk- 
maker,  who  had  arrived,  bearing  with  him  two  or 
three  samples  of  the  desired  goods. 

"  He  will  not  trust  me,  Mr.  Portlack !  and  yet 


CAPTAIN  NOBLE.  265 

it  is  true — and  too  absurd — that  I  can  make  him 
nothing  but  promises  of  payment." 

"  Pray,  how  much  do  you  want  ? "  said  I. 

"Fourteen  shillings,"  she  answered,  and  she 
added  tranquilly,  with  a  slight  smile,  "  To  think  that 
I  should  want  fourteen  shillings  !  " 

I  put  down  a  sovereign  ;  the  man  gave  me 
change,  shouldered  the  remaining  boxes,  and  went 
away. 

Having  escorted  Miss  l^oble  to  her  hotel,  I  again 
returned  to  the  schooner,  which  I  intended  should 
be  my  home  until  after  the  arrival  of  Captain  No- 
ble. The  two  sailors  asked  me  what  they  should 
do.  I  advised  them  to  ship  aboard  a  collier  and 
make  their  way  to  London,  where  they  would  easily 
find  some  one  to  advise  them  as  to  what  proceed- 
ings they  should  take  in  respect  of  reward  for  the 
assistance  they  had  rendered  me  in  carrying  the 
schooner  home.  Next  day  they  found  a  collier 
wanting  men,  and,  giving  them  a  sovereign,  I  bade 
them  farewell.     I  never  heard  of  them  again. 

Meanwhile,  I  kept  the  negro  boy  on  board  the 
schooner. 

We  had  arrived  at  Ramsgate  on  a  Wednesday 
morning.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  following  Tues- 
day I  was  pacing  the  deck  of  the  schooner  as  she 


266     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

lay  moored  against  the  pier  wall.  The  harbor  mas- 
ter had  not  long  left  me.  An  hour  we  had  spent 
together,  I  in  talking  and  he  in  listening ;  for  the 
receiver,  with  whom  he  was  intimate,  had  dropped 
many  hints  of  my  story  to  him  over  a  glass  of  whis- 
ky and  water  one  night,  and  he  told  me  he  could 
not  rest  until  he  had  heard  my  version  of  the  ex- 
traordinary romance.  It  was  a  brilhant  afternoon ; 
a  fresh  breeze  from  the  west  swept  into  the  har- 
bor between  the  pier-heads,  and  the  water  danced 
in  light.  A  few  smacks,  bowed  down  by  their 
weight  of  red  canvas,  were  endeavoring  to  beat 
out  to  sea.  A  number  of  wherries  straining  at 
their  painters  frolicked  in  the  flashful  tumble,  past 
w^iich  was  the  slope  of  beach  with  galleys  and 
small  boats  high  and  dry,  and  many  forms  of  loung- 
ing boatmen.  On  the  milk-white  heights  of  chalk 
the  windows  of  the  houses  glanced  in  silver  fires, 
which  came  and  went  in  a  sort  of  breathing  way  as 
they  blazed  out  and  were  then  extinguislffed  by  the 
violet  shadows  of  masses  of  swollen  cloud  majes- 
tically rolling  under  the  sun. 

I  was  gazing  with  pleasure  at  this  animated 
'longshore  picture,  full  of  color  and  splendor  and 
movement,  when  I  observed  a  gentleman  rapidly 
coming  along  the  pier,  which  happened  to  be  almost 


CAPTAIN  NOBLE.  267 

deserted.  There  was  something  of  a  deep-sea  roll 
in  his  gait,  and  though  he  chitehed  a  stick  in  one 
hand,  the  other  hung  down  at  his  side  in  a  manner 
that  is  pecuhar  to  people  who  have  long  used  the 
sea.  I  seemed  to  guess  who  he  was,  and  watched 
him  approaching  while  I  knocked  the  ashes  out  of 
my  pipe.  He  came  to  the  edge  of  the  wall,  and, 
looking  down,  shouted  out  in  a  hoarse  voice  : 

"  Is  this  schooner  the  Casandra  ? " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  I  answered. 

He  put  his  hand  on  the  ladder  and  descended. 
He  had  a  clean-shaven  face,  the  color  of  which  at 
this  moment  was  a  fiery  red,  but  then  he  had  been 
walking  fast.  His  eyes  were  large,  and  remarkable 
for  an  expression  of  eager  expectation,  as  though 
he  had  been  all  his  life  waiting  to  receive  some 
important  communication.  His  hat  was  a  broad- 
brimmed  beaver  ;  he  was  buttoned  up  in  a  stout 
bottle-green  coat,  and  he  was  booted  after  the  fash- 
ion of  country  gentlemen  of  that  age. 

"  My  name  is  Noble — Captain  Noble,"  said  he. 
"  Are  you  Mr.  Portlack  ? " 

"  I  am,"  said  I. 

"  Give  me  your  hand,"  he  exclaimed.  He 
grasped  and  squeezed  my  fingers  almost  bloodless, 
letting  go  my  hand  with  a  vehement  jerk  as  though 


268     THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

he  threw  it  from  him.  "  I  thank  you  for  bringing 
my  daughter  home,  sir.  Her  mother  thanks  you 
for  your  attention  to  her  child.  You  have  acted 
the  part  of  a  gentleman,  of  a  sailor,  of  a  man  of 
honor.  I  thank  you  again,  and  yet  again."  Then, 
glancing  along  the  decks  of  the  vessel,  he  added, 
"  So  this  is  the  blasted  schooner,  hey  ? " 

"  I  trust  Miss  Noble  has  told  you,"  said  I,  "  how 
it  happens  that  I  was  on  board  this  vessel  on  the 
night  of  her  abduction  ? " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  still  continuing  to  examine 
the  vessel  curiously,  now  looking  aloft,  now  for- 
ward, now  aft,  as  though  he  could  not  take  too  com- 
plete a  view  of  the  craft.  "  Yes,  she  told  me.  The 
scoundrels !  Thank  God  !  I  shot  one  of  'em.  I 
would  have  shot  'em  all,  but  the  ruffians  stood  over 
me  and  my  son  with  naked  cutlasses  and  loaded 
pistols." 

"  I  hope  they  did  not  burn  the  house  down  ? " 

"  No,  we  extinguished  the  fire.  Fifteen  hundred 
pounds'  worth  of  damage — that's  all !  "  He  made  a 
cut  through  the  air  with  his  stick,  exclaiming: 
"  The  rogues !  the  villains !  They  took  me  un- 
aware. So  many  of  them,  too !  How  many  were 
there  ? " 

"  Two  Spaniards,"  said  I,  "  the  master  of  this 


CAPTAIN  NOBLE.  269 

schooner^  and  four  seamen.  You  were  attacked  by 
seven." 

"  Seven ! "  he  cried.  "  Seven  against  two  !  for 
as  to  my  coachman  and  footman — what  do  you 
think  ?  They  drove  away — by  heavens !  they  lashed 
the  horses  and  bolted  !  I  should  like  to  go  below ; 
I  should  like  to  examine  this  blackguard  craft.  A 
fine,  stout  vessel  all  the  same.  A  pirate  in  her 
day,  no  doubt." 

We  descended  into  the  cabin,  which  he  at  once 
made  the  round  of,  peering  at  the  pictures,  staring 
at  the  looking-glasses,  examining  the  chairs,  as 
though  he  were  in  a  museum  and  every  object 
was  extraordinarily  curious. 

"And  pray,  how  is  Miss  Xoble,  sir?"  said  I. 
"  I  have  not  seen  her  since  Tuesday." 

"  Yery  well ;  wonderfully  well,"  he  answered. 

"  How  do  you  find  her  in  looks  after  her  terrible 
experience  ? " 

"  Wliy,  neither  her  mother  nor  I  see  any  change. 
She  is  a  shade  paler  than  she  commonly  is.  But  the 
girl  has  the  heart  of  a  lioness." 

"  So  she  has,  sir." 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  Mr.  Portlack,  tell  me  about 
those  two  cursed  Spaniards.  I  want  to  get  at 
them." 


270     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

He  flung  his  stick  upon  the  table  and  threw 
himself  into  an  arm-chair. 

"  What  did  your  daughter  tell  you  about  those 
two  men  ? "  said  I. 

"  Why,  she  was  insensible,  she  says,  for  the 
greater  part  of  the  time,  and  you  informed  her  that, 
on  the  day  of  her  recovery,  you  transshipped  the  two 
miscreants  at  their  request.  What  vessel  received 
them  ? "  and  here  he  pulled  out  a  pocket-book  and  a 
pencil-case,  with  the  intention  of  taking  notes. 

"  Your  daughter  told  you  that  she  was  insensible, 
sir,  and  that  she  continued  insensible  for  many 
days  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  flourishing  his  pencil  with  an 
irritable  gesture,  clearly  annoyed  at  my  not  answer- 
ing his  question. 

"  That,"  said  I,  "  is  all  that  she  would  be  able  to 
tell  you." 

My  manner  caused  him  to  view  me  steadfastly, 
and  the  odd  expression  of  expectation  in  his  eyes 
grew  more  defined. 

"  When  your  daughter  awoke  from  her  first 
swoon,  Captain  Noble,  she  awoke — mad." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  mad  ? "  he  said. 

"  She  was  a  maniac,"  said  I.  "  And  I  wish  that 
were  all." 


CAPTAIN  NOBLE.  2Y1 

"  Out  with  it — out  with  it  all,  then,  man,  for 
God's  sake  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Only  one  Spaniard,  along  with  the  Spanish 
steward,  left  the  schooner.  The  body  of  the  other 
Spaniard  we  dropped  overboard." 

He  put  his  note-book  on  the  table  and  tightly 
folded  his  arms  on  his  breast.  I  believe,  though  I 
could  not  be  sure,  that  he  then  guessed  what  I  was 
about  to  tell  him. 

"  I  knew  that  your  daughter  was  mad,"  said  I. 
"  Don  Christoval  introduced  me  into  her  cabin,  hop- 
ing, I  know  not  what,  from  my  visit.  It  was  not 
long  after,  that,  being  in  the  quarters  which  I  then 
occupied  yonder,"  said  I,  pointing,  "  I  heard  a  terri- 
ble cry,  and  opening  that  door  there  I  witnessed 
Don  Christoval  in  the  act  of  falling  and  expiring, 
stabbed  to  the  heart  by  your  daughter,  who  stood 
just  within  her  cabin  —  that  one  there  —  grasping 
a  large  knife  she  had  managed  to  get  possession 
of." 

He  fell  back  in  his  chair,  and  remained  for  some 
moments  looking  at  me  as  though  he  could  not  un- 
derstand my  meaning  ;  then  a  sort  of  groan  escaped 
him,  and  he  got  up  and  began  to  march  about  the 
cabin. 

"  These  are  dreadful  tidings  for  a  father's  ears," 


272     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

he  exclaimed,  stopping  abreast  of  me.  Then  his 
mood  changed  with  almost  electric  swiftness,  and, 
hitting  the  table  a  heavy  blow  with  his  fist,  he 
roared  out :  "  By  — ,  but  it  served  the  rufiian  right ! 
It  was  my  spirit  working  in  her,  mad  as  she  might 
be.  That's  how  I  would  have  served  him,  and  the 
rest  of  them,  one  and  all — the  atrocious  villains !  " 

"Of  course  you  know,"  said  I,  "that  your 
daughter  is  utterly  ignorant  of  having  slain  that 
Spaniard — ignorant  of  that,  and  ignorant  that  she 
was  out  of  her  mind :  though  some  dark  fancy 
seemed  to  haunt  her  for  a  while,  until,  by  a  false- 
hood, which  I  detest,  I  dispelled  it." 

"  What  did  you  tell  her  ? " 

"  She  asked  me  if  she  had  been  mad,  and  I  said 
'No'!" 

"Mr.  Portlack,"  he  cried,  grasping  me  by  the 
hand,  "  you  have  the  delicacy  of  a  gentleman.  The 
more  I  know  of  you  the  more  I  honor  you.  .  .  . 
And  she  stabbed  him  to  the  heart?  Oh,  now, 
to  think  of  it !  Her  mother  must  not  be  told — 
there  must  not  be  a  whisper ;  she  is  all  nerves  and 
imagination.  Who  knows  of  this  beside  your- 
self?" 

"  The  five  seamen,"  said  I ;  "  the  five  of  a  crew 
of  Englishmen,  who,  when  they  found  that  they  had 


CAPTAIN   NOBLE,  273 

been  tricked  by  the  Spaniards,  resolved  to  leave  the 
schooner.  They  sailed  away  in  a  boat  for  Cadiz 
when  we  were  off  that  port.  They  know  all  about 
the  assassination ;  but,  take  my  word  for  it,  they'll 
never  let  you  hear  of  them  on  this  side  of  the 
grave." 

He  began  to  pace  the  cabin  afresh, 

"  There  is  another,"  said  I,  "  who  possesses  the 
secret,  to  call  it  so." 

"  You  mean  yourself  ? " 

"  No ;  a  lad — a  negro  boy.  He  is  now  in  the 
schooner.  I  am  troubled  to  know  what  to  do  with 
him.  I  have  made  him  believe  that  he  and  I  will 
both  be  hanged  if  he  opens  his  lips.  Yet,  he  may 
talk  by  and  by,  Captain  ISToble.     He  is  a  mere  lad," 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ? "  said  he,  frowning. 
"  Tough  as  I  am,  it  would  break  my  heart  if  this 
were  to  be  known.  Conceive  the  effect  of  the  intel- 
ligence upon  my  daughter.  Great  Heaven  !  if  you 
could  but  tell  me  it  was  a  dream  of  yours !  Upon 
your  secrecy,  Mr,  Portlack,  I  know  we  can  all 
depend.  Your  behavior  throughout  is  warrant 
enough  for  me.  How  to  thank  you —  But  about 
this  boy  ?     Let  me  see  him,  will  you  ? " 

I  at  once  went  on  deck  and  called  down  into  the 

forecastle,  where  the  lad  lay  asleep  in  a  bunk.     I 
18 


274  THE  TRAGEDY   OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

told  him  to  clean  himself  and  come  to  me  in  the 
cabin,  and  I  then  returned  to  Captain  Noble. 

"There  is  only  this  lad  to  deal  with,"  said  I. 
"  Believe  me  when  I  assure  you  that  you  will  never 
hear  more  of  those  five  seamen,  nor  of  Don  Laza- 
rillo  and  the  steward.  Captain  Dopping,  the  master 
of  this  schooner,  you  yourself  shot  dead.  As  for 
me —  But  for  myself  I  will  say  no  more  than  this  :  I 
hold  that  your  daughter  was  barbarously  used.  The 
men  who  stole  her,  and  who  drove  her  mad  by  steal- 
inff  her,  were  scoundrels  whom  I  would  have  shot 
down  as  I  would  shoot  down  a  brace  of  mad  mon- 
grels, sooner  than  have  suffered  them,  as  foreigners, 
to  lay  violent  hands  upon  a  countrywoman  of  mine, 
and  upon  so  good  and  sweet  a  young  lady  as  your 
daughter.  My  one  desire  throughout  has  been  to 
make  all  the  amends  in  my  power.  I  was  innocently 
betrayed  into  this  villainous  business,  and  I  trust, 
Captain  Noble,  that  the  theory  of  reparation  I  have 
endeavored  to  work  out  establishes  me  in  your  mind 
as  a  man  in  whose  keeping  the  tragic  secret  of  this 
adventure  is  absolutely  safo." 

He  endeavored  to  speak,  but  his  voice  failed 
him.  He  took  my  hand  in  both  his,  and  in  silence 
looked  at  me  with  his  eyes  dim  with  tears. 

"  And  now  about  the  boy,"  said  I.     "  It  occurs 


CAPTAIN  NOBLE.  275 

to  me  that  3^011  might  have  influence  to  procure  him 
some  situation  on  board  a  man-of-war,  going  abroad 
or  at  present  abroad." 

He  was  about  to  answer,  when  the  lad's  legs 
showed  in  the  companion-way  and  down  he  came. 
Captain  Noble  stared  at  him,  and  he  stared  at  the 
Captain. 

"  A  likely  lad,  Mr.  Portlack.  Does  he  speak 
EngHsh  ? " 

"  Do  you  speak  English,  Tom  ? "  said  I. 

"  ISTufliu  but  English,  de  Lord  be  praised ! "  he 
answered,  grinning. 

Captain  Noble  mused  as  he  eyed  him.  "You 
have  behaved  very  lionestly,"  said  he,  "and  I 
shall  w^ant  to  do  you  a  kindness.  Come  to  the 
hotel  where  I  am  stopping  to-morrow  morning  at 
ten  o'clock,  and  you  and  I  will  have  a  chat." 

'•  I'll  be  dere,  sah." 

"  It  will  give  me  time  to  think,"  said  Captain 
Noble  in  an  aside  to  me.  "  And  come  you  and 
dine  with  us  this  evening,  Mr.  Portlack,  will  you  ? " 
I  glanced  down  at  my  clothes.  "  Never  mind  about 
your  dress,"  he  continued.  "  "We  shall  expect  you 
at  half-past  six  o'clock." 

He  stayed  for  anotlicr  quarter  of  an  hour,  and 
then  left  the  schooner. 


276      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

IS'ever  had  anything  before,  and  I  may  say  never 
has  anything  since,  proved  so  memorable  to  me  as 
that  dinner  with  Captain  and  Lady  Ida  Noble  and 
Miss  Noble  at  the  Albion  Hotel,  Eamsgate.  The 
reason  why  it  was  memorable  you  shall  hear  in  a 
minute.  I  found  Lady  Ida  Noble  very  different 
from  the  individual  I  had  supposed  her  to  be,  on  the 
representations  of  Don  Christoval.  I  expected  to 
meet  a  tall,  haughty^  and  forbidding  lady,  of  an  ice- 
like coldness  of  demeanor ;  instead,  I  found  her  an 
impulsive  little  woman,  in  a  high  degree  nervous 
and  emotional,  possessed  of  a  ready  capacity  of 
tears,  resembling  her  daughter  in  face  and  figure  in 
a  sort  of  miniature  way — for  Miss  Noble  stood  half  a 
head  taller  than  her  mother — and  a  refined  lady  in 
all  she  said  and  did.  She  overwhelmed  me  with 
thanks,  and  seemed  unable  to  make  enough  of 
me. 

Miss  Noble  looked  very  well  indeed  ;  there  was 
color  in  her  cheek  and  fire  in  her  soft  dark  eyes, 
and  a  quiet  vivacity  of  good  health  in  her  bearing 
and  movements.  Indeed,  her  swift  recovery,  or  rath- 
er, let  me  say,  her  emergence  into  health  from  the 
horrible  disease  of  insanity  and  from  her  long  death- 
like condition  of  catalepsy,  impressed  me  then,  as  it 
impresses  me  still,  as  the  most  startling  and  extraor- 


CAPTAIN   NOBLE.  277 

dinary  of  all  the  incidents  of  our  startling  and  ex- 
traordinary voyage. 

"WTien  the  ladies  had  left  us,  Captain  Xoble  put 
a  cigar-case  upon  the  table,  and  said  : 

"  I  have  been  thinking  about  that  negro  boy.  I 
have  a  relative  in  the  West  Indies,  and  I  will  send 
the  lad  out  to  him,  if  he  is  willing  to  go.  I  will  tell 
my  relative  the  story  of  my  daughter's  abduction, 
explain  that  I  want  the  matter  kept  secret,  and  bid 
him  have  an  eye  to  the  lad." 

"  He  is  a  good  boy,"  said  I,  "  and  deserves  a  com- 
fortable berth." 

"  He  shall  have  it,"  said  Captain  Noble,  "  and  I 
will  put  money  in  his  pocket,  too.  I'll  talk  with 
him  in  the  morning." 

He  then  questioned  me  about  Don  Lazarillo,  but 
I  could  tell  him  nothing.  The  very  name,  indeed,  I 
said,  might  be  assumed,  though  I  thought  this  im- 
probable, seeing  that  the  other  had  sailed  under  true 
colors.  In  talking  of  these  Spaniards  he,  by  design 
or  accident,  informed  me  that  his  daughter  was  heiress 
to  a  considerable  property.  I  can  not  be  sure  of  the 
amount  he  named,  but  I  have  a  recollection  of  his 
saying  that  on  her  mother's  death  she  would  inherit 
a  fortune  of  between  sixty  thousand  and  eighty 
thousand  pounds.     One  subject  leading  to  another, 


278      THE  TRAGEDY  OF  IDA  NOBLE. 

he  inquired  as  to  the  payment  of  the  sailors  of  La 
Casandra.  I  answered  that  Don  Lazarillo,  being 
terrified  bj  the  seamen's  threats,  had  entered  his 
dead  friend's  bertli  and  produced  a  bag  of  gold 
whicli  exactly  sufficed  to  discharge  the  claims  of  the 
men. 

"  And  what  did  the  rogues  offer  you,  Mr.  Port- 
lack  ? "  said  he. 

"  Fifty  guineas,  sir." 

"  Did  you  get  it  ? " 

I  smiled,  and  answered  that,  instead  of  money, 
Don  Lazarillo  had  given  me  Don  Christoval's  watch 
and  chain  and  diamond  ring. 

"  Have  you  the  things  upon  you  ?  "  said  he. 

"  I  have  the  ring,"  said  I,  pulling  it  out  of  my 
waistcoat  pocket.  "  The  w^atcli  and  chain  I  pawned 
for  twenty  pounds,  being  without  money,  save  a 
trifle  in  a  savings  bank  in  London.  What  this  ring 
is  worth  I'm  sure  I  can't  imagine,"  said  I,  looking  at 
it.  "  I  hope  it  will  yield  me  an  outfit.  I  as  good  as 
lost  everything  I  possessed  when  the  Ocean  Ranger 
sailed  away  in  chase  of  the  Yankee,  leaving  me 
adrift." 

He  extended  his  hand  for  the  ring,  and  appeared 
to  examine  it.  ''  Have  you  the  pawn-ticket  for  the 
watch  and  chain  ? "   he  asked.     I  gave  it  to  him. 


CAPTAIN  NOBLE.  279 

"  I  sliould  like  to  possess  that  watch  and  chain,"  said 
he,  "  and  I  should  like  also  to  possess  this  ring.  I'll 
buy  them  from  you." 

I  bowed,  scarcely  as  yet  seeing  my  way.  He 
pulled  out  his  pocket-book  and  extracted  a  check 
already  filled  in. 

"  Yon  will  do  me  the  favor,"  said  he,  "  to  accept 
this  as  a  gift,  and  I  will  do  you  the  favor  to  accept 
this  pawn-ticket  and  ring  as  a  gift." 

The  check  was  for  five  hundred  guineas. 

This  noble  check  is  the  reason  for  my  calling 
that  dinner  at  the  Albion  Hotel,  Ramsgate,  a  mem- 
orable one.  It  laid  the  foundations  of  the  little 
fortune  which  I  now  possess,  but  which  without 
that  check  I  should  never  have  possessed,  so  hope- 
lessly unprofitable  is  the  vocation  of  the  mariner. 
But  I  did  even  better  than  that  out  of  the  ill-fated 
Don  Christoval  and  his  friend,  for,  nobody  appear- 
ing to  claim  the  schooner,  she  was  sold  after  a  con- 
siderable lapse  of  time  ;  and  when  I  returned  from 
a  voyage  in  which  I  had  gone  as  chief  oflicer,  I  was 
agreeably  surprised  at  being  informed,  by  the  so- 
licitor whom  I  had  requested  to  watch  my  interests 
during  my  absence,  that  the  claim  he  had  made  on 
my  behalf  as  virtually  the  salvor  of  the  schooner 
had  been  admitted,  and  that  I  was  the  richer  by  a 


280     THE  TRAGEDY  OP  IDA  NOBLE. 

proportion  of  the  proceeds  amounting  to  a  hundred 
and  ninety  pounds. 

Whether  because  of  tlie  influence  possessed  by 
Captain  Noble,  or  because  the  authorities  (who- 
ever they  might  be)  decided  not  to  take  proceed- 
ings against  me  as  the  only  discoverable  member  of 
the  gang  who  had  forced  Miss  Noble  from  her  home, 
certain  it  is  that  I  never  heard  anything  more  of 
the  matter.  I  took  care  that  my  address  should  be 
known,  and  carefully  informed  the  receiver  at 
Ramsgate,  and  Captain  Noble  also,  that  I  was  will- 
ing while  ashore  at  any  moment  to  come  forward 
and  state  what  I  knew ;  but,  as  I  have  before  said,  I 
was  never  communicated  with.  The  whole  story 
lay  as  dead  in  the  minds  of  those  few  who  knew 
of  it  as  though  the  events  I  have  related  had  never 
occurred. 

Five  years  had  expired  since  the  date  of  my 
having  safely  restored  Miss  Noble  to  her  parents. 

I  was  now  commanding  a  large  Australian  pas- 
senger ship,  and  among  those  who  sailed  to  Mel- 
bourne with  me  was  a  gentleman  named  Fairfield. 
He  was  a  solicitor  in  practice  at  Carlisle.  One  day, 
in  conversing  with  him,  by  the  merest  accident  I 
happened  to  pronounce  the  name  of  Captain  Noble. 
He  asked   me  if  I  knew  him.     I  answered   warily 


CAPTAIN   NOBLE.  281 

that  I  had  heard  of  him.  He  grew  garrulous — an 
unusual  weakness  in  a  lawyer — and,  in  the  course  of 
a  long  quarter-deck  yarn,  told  me  that  Miss  Noble 
had  been  for  two  years  out  of  her  mind,  tended  as  a 
lunatic  by  nurses  in  her  father's  house,  but  for 
nearly  two  years  now  she  had  been  perfectly  well, 
and  some  six  months  ago  had  married  Sir  Ralph 

A ,  Bart.,  a  widower,  whose  estate  lay  within 

five  miles  of  her  father's.  He  said  that  there  was 
some  mystery  about  the  lady's  past.  She  had  been 
abducted  and  ill-used.  He  never  could  get  at  the 
truth  himself,  and  would  like  to  learn  it.  He  un- 
derstood that  she  went  out  of  her  mind  because  of 
some  liorrible  haunting  fancy  of  having  committed 
a  murder. 

That  was  all  he  could  tell  me,  and  from  that  day 
to  this  I  have  never  been  able  to  hear  of  either  her 
or  her  people. 


THE    END. 


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xinitati  Times-Star. 

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iine  is  the  number  of  stories  in  the  book." — l^ew  York  Sim. 

'J^HE    MAID    OF   HONOR.     By  the  Hon.  Lewis  Wing- 
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troubled  period,  and  this  has  a  unique  interest  for  that  reason." — Chicago  limes. 

"  A  very  graphic  story  of  those  troublous  times  which  witnessed  the  temporary 
triumphs  of  '  the  people.'  " — Rochester  Herald. 

"  It  may  safely  be  said  that  up  to  the  last  page  .  .  .  the  reader's  attention  is  not 
allowed  to  flag." — London  Athencenm. 


/ 


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well  Grey,  author  of  "  The    Silence   of    Dean    Mailland." 

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strongly  illustrative  throughout  of  English  life  and  character.  The  book  is  likely  to 
add  materially  to  the  author's  well-earned  repute." — Chicago  Times. 


c 


ONSEQ  UENCES.     By  Egerton  Castle.     i2mo.     Paper, 

50  cents  ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

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New  York  :   D.  APPLETON  t^  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


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HE  THREE  MISS  KINGS.  By  Ada  Cam- 
bridge, author  of  "My  Guardian."  i2mo.  Paper,  50  cents; 
cloth,  75  cents. 

"  May  unreservedly  be  recommended  as  one  of  the  choice  stories  of  the  season, 
bright,  refined,  graceful,  thoui;htful,  and  interesting  from  the  first  to  the  final  page." — 
Boston  Literary  World, 


A 


MATTER    OF   SKILL.     By  Beatrice  Whitby, 

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written." — Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

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M 


AID    MARIAN,    AND     OTHER     STORIES. 

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plantation  life  and  manners.  All  these  stories  are  spirited,  well  marked  by  local  color, 
and  written  with  skill  and  ingenuity." — New  York  Tribune. 

"  Miss  Seawell  writes  capital  stories,  and  in  a  special  way  nothing  of  late  has  been 
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o 


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There  is  much  discussion  in  it,  but  none  of  it  is  prosy." — New  York  Herald. 

"  In  this  genuinely  interesting  novel  the  author  depicts  one  of  the  most  charming 
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In  his  chosen  path" — St.  Louis  Republic. 


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MERCIFUL    DIVORCE.      By  F.  W.    Maudk 

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o 


NE  REASON  WHY.  By  Beatrice  Whitby,  au- 
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^HE    TRAGEDY    OE    IDA    NOBLE.      By  W. 
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"The  best  sea-story  since  'The  Wreck  of  the  Grosvenor.'  It  shows  a  determina- 
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r 


HE   JOHNSTOWN    STAGE,    AND    OTHER 

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apolis Tribune. 

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of  them  Western  in  scene." — San  Francisco  Argonaut. 


A 


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never  flags." — Boston  Home  Journal. 


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JOHN    BACH   MC MASTER. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

^ IS  TOR  Y  OF  THE  PEOPLE 

OF  THE  UNITED  ST  A  TES,  from 
the  Revolution  to  the  Civil  War.  By 
John  Bach  McMaster,  To  be  com- 
pleted in  five  volumes.  Vols.  I,  II, 
and  III  now  ready.  8vo,  cloth,  gilt 
top,  $2.50  each. 

In  the  course  of  this  narrative  much  is  written 
of  wars,  conspiracies,  and  rebellions ;  of  Presi- 
dents, of  Congresses,  of  embassies,  of  treaties, 
of  the  ambition  of  political  leaders,  and  of  the 
rise  of  great  parties  in  the  nation.  Yet  the  his- 
tory of  the  people  is  the  chief  theme.  At  every 
stage  of  the  splendid  progress  which  separates  the 
America  of  Washington  and  Adams  from  the 
America  in  which  we  live,  it  has  been  the  au- 
thor's purpose  to  describe  the  dress,  the  occupa- 
tions, the  amusements,  the  literary  canons  of  the  times  ;  to  note  the  changes 
of  manners  and  morals ;  to  trace  the  growth  of  that  humane  spirit  which 
abolished  punishment  for  debt,  and  reformed  the  discipline  of  prisons  and 
of  jails  ;  to  recount  the  manifold  improvements  which,  in  a  thousand  ways, 
have  multiplied  the  conveniences  of  life  and  ministered  to  the  happiness  of 
our  race  ;  to  describe  the  rise  and  progress  of  that  long  series  of  mechanical 
inventions  and  discoveries  which  is  now  the  admiration  of  the  world,  and  our 
just  pride  and  boast  ;  to  tell  how,  under  the  benign  influence  of  liberty  and 
peace,  there  sprang  up,  in  the  course  of  a  single  century,  a  prosperity  unpar- 
alleled in  the  annals  of  human  affairs. 

"The  pledge  given  by  Mr.  McMaster,  that  'the  history  of  the  people  shall  be  the 
chief  theme,'  is  punctiliously  and  satisfactorily  fulfilled.  He  carries  out  his  promise  in 
a  complete,  vivid,  and  delightful  way.  We  should  add  that  the  literary  execution  of 
the  work  is  worthy  of  the  indefatigable  industry  and  unceasing  vigilance  with  which 
the  stores  of  historical  material  have  been  accumulated,  weighed,  and  sifted.  The 
cardinal  qualities  of  style,  lucidity,  animation,  and  energy,  are  everywhere  present. 
Seldom  indeed  has  a  book  in  which  matter  of  substantial  value  has  been  so  happily 
united  to  attractiveness  of  form  been  offered  by  an  American  author  to  his  fellow- 
citizens." — New  York  Sun. 

"To  recount  the  marvelous  progress  of  the  American  people,  to  describe  their  life, 
their  literature,  their  occupations,  their  amusements,  is  Mr.  McMaster's  object.  His 
theme  is  an  important  one,  and  we  congratulate  him  on  his  success.  It  has  rarely  been 
our  province  to  notice  a  book  with  so  many  excellences  and  so  few  defects." — New  York 
Herald. 

"  Mr.  McMaster  at  once  shows  his  grasp  of  the  various  themes  and  his  special 
capacity  as  a  historian  of  the  people.  His  aim  is  high,  but  he  hits  the  mark." — 
New  York  Journal  of  CottDiierce. 

".  .  .  The  author's  pages  abound,  too,  with  illustrations  of  the  best  kind  of  histori- 
cal work,  that  of  unearthing  hidden  sources  of  information  and  employing  them,  not 
after  the  modern  style  of  historical  writing,  in  a  mere  report,  but  with  the  true  artistic 
method,  in  a  well-digested  narrative.  ...  If  Mr.  McMaster  finishes  his  work  in  the 
spirit  and  with  the  thoroughness  and  skill  with  which  it  has  begun,  it  will  take  its  place 
among  the  classics  of  American  literature." — Christian  Union. 


New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  i,  3,  &  5  Bond  Street. 


-S- 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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